Loaded Soul
by Slivering
Summary: Ryoma learns that a relationship with Fuji is like a roller coaster ride that never ends. Thrill pair.
1. Prologue

**Loaded Soul**

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Thrill Pair. Let's take a shot at it, shall we? First of all, I want to thank everyone who reviewed or even simply read my first PoT story, _Crumbling. _I think it was your support that helped me complete the story. Anyway, in this thrill story, Fuji may seem like the bad guy or antagonist at times, but I swear, it's only for the sake of the plot. And it _is_ thrill pair, so he's not actually bad or anything. By the way, the prologue is a bit jumpy and confusing and pretty over exaggerated but bear with me.

**Side Notes: **This will be 10 chapters (including the Prologue) with a fair amount of word length (hopefully).

**Warning: **Around Fuji, Ryoma will probably be OOC. However, with everyone else, he will be as in character as I can make him. Fuji just has an effect on him, I suppose

* * *

Prologue

* * *

"Echizen?"

Ryoma's hand froze above his locker combination. His throat went tight. That _voice _– as sharp as the blade of a knife, as malicious as the hiss of a snake – he _knew _that voice. It was the one that made his stomach twist into knots every time he heard it. It was the voice he had come to dread over the past few weeks, the one he had carefully avoided ever since the realization.

"Echizen, are you alright?" Now, the voice sounded concerned.

Ryoma wanted to bang his head against his locker. He couldn't turn around, lest Fuji see his flushed face and shaken eyes. The preteen took a deep breath. He fumbled to get his combination – once, twice, thrice – before he finally managed to throw the locker open. _Ignore him, _Ryoma sweated as he gathered his math textbook into his arms. _He'll go away if you do._

"You know, grumbling to yourself is a sign of insanity."

_Had he been mumbling outloud? _Ryoma squeaked under his breath, then clapped a hand over his mouth. Had he just s_queaked_? The twelve-year old took a deep breath. His knees trembled underneath him. Focus. He needed to focus. Reorganize his thoughts. With a long a gulp of air, Ryoma straightened up, plastered on a bored expression, and turned around.

"Fuji-senpai?" he said nonchalantly.

Fuji stood calmly in front of his locker. Ryoma gulped as his eyes roamed over the prodigy's smooth skin and slender body, the tight muscles showing throu – _Stop. Just stop. _That's right. He needed to control his emotions, or this stupid problem would never go away.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Fuji said. "You seem tense."

Ryoma hugged his textbook to his chest. "Fine, senpai. Anyway, I have to go to class now."

The boy made a desperate getaway towards his classroom, but Fuji clamped a hand firmly on his shoulder. Ryoma's heart dropped to his gut, and it took every ounce of his willpower to not faint at the touch.

"Yes?" he asked casually. "What do you want?"

Fuji smiled. "Ryuuzaki-sensei wanted me to tell you that we're going to have the intra-school ranking tournament at practice today."

For a lovely split second, Ryoma's breathing rate went back to normal. He raised an eyebrow at the new information. "A ranking tournament? A little last minute, isn't it?"

"I don't know all the details," Fuji said innocently. Ryoma bet his tennis skills that Fuji knew all the details by heart. "but it's not about who gets to be a regular. Something else."

This was even more of a surprise. Ryoma shrugged – he couldn't care less though. He would just beat everyone like he always did. "Okay."

Fuji nodded, and let go of Ryoma's shoulder. Immediately, the boy felt cold. He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath – _He's going. He's going. Thank god he's going. _Ryoma relaxed his shoulders and tense back. Finally, he could go to his math class in peace. It was first period, so he was already late, but he was late every day so it didn't really make a difference. As Ryoma opened his eyes and took a step forward, a chilling voice made his knees buckle.

"Oh, Echizen?"

_Why hasn't he left yet?_ Ryoma's heart banged like a hammer. _He was supposed to be long gone! _

Ryoma slowly looked over his shoulder, hands shaking under the weight of his textbook.

Fuji shot him a serene smile, a few metres away. "You look very cute in your uniform."

The heart in Ryoma's chest completely exploded and Ryoma had to hold onto the wall to steady himself. _What? _His throat went dry, and he opened his mouth to respond but Fuji had already disappeared behind the corner. _What? __What?_ Ryoma internally freaked out. Control completely dissolving, Ryoma hurried past his classroom and into the boy's bathroom.

He needed some time to recollect himself. And maybe pass out.

* * *

After Ryoma washed his face and slumped against the wall for a long moment, he managed to feel a bit better. It was always like this around Fuji – a jumping feeling in his chest, butterflies squirming in his stomach. He hated it so much; to be out of control. He had always been capable in successfully hiding his emotions when necessary, so this new weakness was foreign to him.

"Stupid Fuji-senpai," Ryoma muttered. He clung onto his textbook like it was a lifeline.

Ever since the realization – the one that had occurred a few weeks ago and resulted in ruining his life – Ryoma had been unable to keep Fuji off his mind. _It's because you like-like him, Ryoma. Face the horrible truth. _Ryoma felt sick again. He had a crush, dear lord – and not just _any _crush, but one on a boy. Hold on – not just on _any _boy, but on a manipulative bastard that liked to mess with your feelings.

Ryoma smiled bitterly.

_Lucky me._

At least he had the entire day Fuji-less. He was glad that Fuji was a senior. That meant they didn't have any classes together, and so Ryoma could concentrate in class. Not that he really did anything but sleep and look out the window, but _still. _He couldn't afford to fail. And with Fuji, Ryoma had no doubt he could. _Why Fuji? Why not- why not Ryuuzaki-san or someone? A __girl,__ or at least someone not as freaking weird as Fuji. _

Ryoma took a deep breath. He reminded himself of something that always managed to calm him down:

_Remember, just get through the day and then you'll be safe at home and locked up in your room._

Unfortunately, his stomach sunk as he realized something: The Ranking Tournament.

_Damn. With my luck, I'll probably play against Fuji-senpai and lose because I'm too busy drooling._

* * *

In fact, Ryoma did not end up playing Fuji. He played against Momoshiro, who he beat. After the break, his final match was against Kikumaru Eiji. It was odd, since in this ranking tournament, only the regulars participated instead of the entire tennis club. Also, instead of four blocks there were only two. Ryoma vaguely wondered what it was for, but he didn't really care all that match.

"Ch', it's way too hot," Ryoma tipped his head back. He took a long gulp of water from his bottle. Around him, the freshman trio chattered excitedly, Horio blabbering with his mouth full.

"You know, Horio, it'd be nice if you slowed down and chewed for a moment," Kachiro mumbled half-heartedly, tray pulled against his chest.

Ryoma rolled his eyes and turned around to lie on the grass. Automatically, his eyes closed for comfort. _So hot…I'd rather be at home with the air-conditioning…and I can't even get a decent match lately…to bad buchou's in Germany…_

"Horio, _please _stop talking with your mouth full," Katsuo begged. "Fuji-senpai is coming over here too. It'd just be rude if you spoke to him while you ate."

_Boom! _Like an explosion, Ryoma's heart started to beat erratically. A loud thump rung in his ears. He opened one eye and peered down the pathaway where, indeed, Fuji was walking. Right towards them. _Crap. _With hasty movements, Ryoma rolled onto his stomach and closed his eyes. Maybe if he pretended to sleep, Fuji would walk by without stopping. After all, Ryoma was sure that Fuji didn't really care to speak with the other freshman.

_Please, __please, __for the sake of my sanity, just walk by._

Ryoma's prayers melted to oblivion when the freshman trio greeted the prodigy by chorusing his name.

"Hi Fuji-senpai!"

There was a moment of silence in which Ryoma guessed Fuji smiled creepily.

"Hello. Is Echizen asleep?"

Ryoma inwardly groaned.

Horio jumped right in to answer. "Ha? Well, he wasn't asleep just a moment ago, so I bet he's not really asleep yet! Hey, Echizen, Fuji-senpai wants to talk to you!"

Ryoma screwed his eyes shut and cursed. With a deep breath, he pushed himself up with his wrists and turned around to shoot Fuji a lazy stare. It took all his sheer willpower not to blush and faint, and he wondered if this crush thing was getting worse instead of better. _Seriously though, this is stupid. Nobody I know gets __this__ panicky around the person they like. It's Fuji's fault. It's his effect. _

Fuji smiled at the twelve-year old. "Your next game is against Eiji, hm?"

Ryoma didn't bother to answer. He didn't think he could have even if he'd tried. _Go away, _he silently pleaded. _Please?_

The boy's eyes widened in shock when Fuji did the complete opposite. Instead of disappearing like he should have, Fuji settled onto the grass beside Ryoma. For a moment, Ryoma felt his entire throat clog up and his brain go fuzzy. He fought to keep the blush off his face as Fuji's knee touched his own. _What's happening? He never sits beside me like this! Unless…he __knows__…_

"Echizen, are you sure you're alright?" Fuji said softly. His voice was gentle with deceit.

Ryoma nodded dumbly. "Fine, senpai."

"You don't look fine," Fuji replied, tone amused.

"I am," Ryoma swallowed hard. "Don't you have a game or something?"

Fuji's eyes sparkled with even more amusement. "Hm? It's break, Echizen. I don't know what you're talking about."

Ryoma's face flushed. He looked away. "Whatever."

There was silence. The other freshman seemed to have inched away as if they _knew _that Ryoma and Fuji should be left alone. Ryoma really didn't want to be left alone with Fuji, but he could see his so-called friends scampering away to another spot. The boy's stomach sunk and he stilled himself.

Suddenly, there was some shuffling and Fuji moved a few inches away from Ryoma.

The boy's chest relaxed. _Phew, that's more comfortable. _

"So, are you ready for your game?" Fuji asked. "Have you sharpened your twist serve?"

Ryoma blinked, and the tenseness left his shoulders. He saw Fuji's smile widen from the corner of his eyes. "Uh, yeah. It's good, now. Better than before."

"One day," Fuji started, eyes opening. There was a flash of electric blue and Ryoma felt like he was going to die of body overheating. Luckily, the prodigy quickly closed them again and produced his regular smile. "I'll show you how to do one of the triple counters."

Ryoma scoffed, "You don't need to."

Fuji's smile remained strong. "But aren't you curious to learn?"

For a moment, Ryoma wanted to nod. If curious to learn meant spending time alone with the prodigy, then he would be more than glad. He _liked _Fuji and he did want to talk with him and stuff, but it was just so _hard _because every time the prodigy came near, Ryoma felt like his heart would explode and his knees would give out on him. _If only I could interact with Fuji without falling apart…_

Ryoma cleared his throat. "Okay. Maybe."

Fuji didn't answer. Then, he lowered his voice and spoke: "Echizen, there's something off about you."

The boy tugged at his collar from the heat and gulped. "Off?" he asked, and winced when his voice cracked in uncertainty. "There's nothing off, Fuji-senpai."

Blue eyes were open again. In a heartbeat, Ryoma's face went red.

"Don't lie to me," Fuji's voice was just above a whisper. The ice in his eyes went fuzzy in Ryoma's vision. There was a long minute of soundless silence. Ryoma shivered but he couldn't manage to tear his gaze away from Fuji's clear eyes. Then, as if nothing had happened, Fuji suddenly shut his eyes and smiled, albeit painstakingly.

"Sorry for scaring you," the prodigy apologized softly. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay. You seem nervous around me lately."

"Oh…" Ryoma stared at the ground. He rubbed his forearms. He felt cold all over. "Oh."

Fuji's smile wavered. "Am I that scary?"

Ryoma blinked, than coughed. He pretended to look annoyed. "Who's scared?" he challenged.

There was something about Fuji's smile that was different. Instead of its usual eerie peacefulness, it looked almost sad. Ryoma wanted to ask if everything was okay, but his voice was stuck in his throat and his heart was pumping like a full-power water hose. He hadn't exactly been _scared _of Fuji, just a bit taken aback – nobody's eyes had ever captured him like that before.

"I'm sorry," Fuji said again. "for scaring you."

"I wasn't scared," Ryoma mumbled. He pulled his cap down over his head.

Fuji kept his gaze drawn on him. "Well, perhaps I'm overthinking it then. It's just – I've-" the senior stopped speaking. "Nevermind. I shall be going. The final matches will be starting soon."

Ryoma frowned as Fuji stood up and brushed himself off. Any trace of insecurity or despondency had disappeared, and now Fuji looked like normal Fuji again. The tennis genius lifted his fingers in a little goodbye before he started to walk away again. Ryoma watched his back as he walked, and waited as his heart and breathing rate started to return to normal.

Fuji had been about to say something, Ryoma was sure of it. _I don't get it. That was so weird. We don't even talk that much and he got so serious towards me._

"Hey, Echizen!" Horio called, running towards him.

Ryoma kept his gaze fixated on Fuji's figure as the older boy slithered behind the tennis court fence. He shook his head – he couldn't focus on Fuji right now. He had a match to win.

* * *

Heat rolled off of Ryoma's neck as he skidded against the ground. Playing against Kikumaru was _tough. _They were both playing rather evenly right now, tied with two games, but Ryoma found it difficult to keep up with Kikumaru's constant acrobatic moves. He wasn't really at a disadvantage, but Kikumaru was a good player, and Ryoma was having problems concentrating.

_Fuji, why are you such a mystery?_

Ryoma grimaced as he sent a lob too high.

_Head in the game, Ryoma, head in the game. _

Failing to return Kikumaru's _Kikumaru beam, _Ryoma stumbled against the ground once again. He groaned as his elbows scraped the pavement. He just couldn't _focus, _and his opponent was a regular, so he couldn't even take it easy. He didn't understand what was wrong with his mind. He'd wanted the challenge, and now he couldn't even play up to it.

"Ochibi," Kikumaru frowned. "Are you alright?"

Ryoma nodded and stood up. He shook out his arms and gripped his racket tightly in his hands. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Fuji standing there watching with a few of the other regulars. _He must have finished his match against Oishi already. No doubt, Fuji won. _

"30-15!"

_Huh? _Ryoma looked up to see the ball on his side of the court, lying carelessly. He gritted his teeth.

_Damn you, Fuji. _

Kikumaru's frown deepened. "Geez Ochibi, get in the game already! I wanna play a real match, and I know you're like ten times better than this!"

Ryoma didn't say anything. He straightened up and positioned himself on the service box, knees bent in preparation. This time, at Kikumaru's serve, Ryoma launched his racket out and hit it hard. The ball whizzed over the net in a flash, then clattered against the fence.

"30-all!"

Return ace. The preteen smirked and shook the hair out of his face. _I can do this. Just gotta keep my mind off of Fuji. Fuji-senpai…_the boy couldn't help but tilt his head towards the fence again. Fuji had a brilliant smile on his face and Ryoma's heart fluttered. He couldn't stop the tiny part of him that wanted to impress Fuji, and he hated himself for that. He shouldn't want to impress Fuji.

The match continued neck to neck. Kikumaru was in full-out mode, eyes ablaze with focus, acrobatic moves swinging left and right before the observers could even blink. Ryoma drifted between concentrating and being distracted, but managed to hold up his own pretty well. Unfortunately, the heat was excruciating and eventually tied at 6-6, both of them were breathing heavily.

"Change court!"

Ryoma dragged his body to the other side of the court. _Gah, stupid heat. _As he walked past the fence that accompanied the regulars, he stopped for a moment. Momoshiro had an eyebrow raised with confusion, Oishi looked stumped, and Ryoma was sure Tezuka would have disapproved if he was here.

"Echizen," Oishi asked. "Is everything alright? Even though you're keeping tied with Eiji, you seem…"

"Fine," Ryoma inserted quickly. He wiped a sweaty palm against his forehead, and turned his head slightly. Standing beside Momoshiro, Fuji had a tense smile on his face. The prodigy's pale fingers clutched the fence.

"You're not focusing at all," Fuji said, voice low. Although his tone was almost startling, Ryoma could hear the worry in his voice.

_Tch, I act like I'm about to pass out every time he's near me and now I'm playing horrible tennis…no wonder he's concerned…hn, imagine if he knew all of this was his fault…_

"I'm tied," Ryoma finally muttered. He swiftly got to his position on the other side of the court. His eyes closed tightly. For a moment, he let the nerves release from his body. He tried to push out all the thoughts on Fuji, and his self-consciousness of trying to impress the prodigy. _It's only making me play worse… _Ryoma screwed his eyes shut even tighter. Then, in another split second, they flashed open, holding a spark so fierce it could light up a flame.

Kikumaru grinned in satisfaction.

And Ryoma, finally concentrating, missed Fuji's exceptional smile from behind the fence.

* * *

"Game set and match! Echizen wins!"

There was mild clapping from the freshman. Ryoma sighed in relief. Perspiration dripped off his hair and his legs burned from the hard-core match. He barely managed to get to the net to shake hands with his senpai without collapsing from exhaustion. Kikumaru, although panting, had a bright smile on his face.

He shook Ryoma's hand vigorously. "Yay, thank you Ochibi! You finally played like yourself near the end!"

Ryoma nodded with a smirk. "Mada mada dane, Kikumaru-senpai."

The red-head pouted in turn. "Mada mada you!"

Ryoma nodded once again. He turned around and strode over to the bench where his tennis bag lay haphazardly. _That was a tough game, tougher than it should have been. _Ryoma grabbed his water bottle and took a long swig. The summer sun continuously beat down on him. _Stupid heat, stupid Fuji._

"Yo, Echizen, good game!" Momoshiro hollered from behind the fence. "Near the end, anyway!"

Ryoma didn't say anything in response. He grabbed the cold-soaked towel and pressed it against his sweaty face. He felt the spirit during the last game slowly vanish as tiredness and confusion settled back in. It had been a nice break, that last game. His entire mind had been focused on tennis and not a single thought of Fuji had roamed in.

The boy glanced over to where Fuji was. The prodigy looked much more relaxed than before, and was chatting normally with Kawamura. Ryoma vaguely wondered if he'd imagined the sad smile Fuji had showed during break.

Suddenly, as if he had realized Ryoma was staring at him, Fuji turned his head and met his gaze. Ryoma flinched in surprise and his cheeks coloured. _Get a hold of yourself! _He whipped his head back towards his tennis bag and hastily stuffed his rackets inside. His hands trembled. _How does he do it? How can he make me feel like this?_

When Ryoma was sure it had been enough time, he glanced back at the fence. Fuji's smile had completely disappeared.

* * *

"Hmm, I wonder why Ryuuzaki-sensei called you and Fuji-senpai to her office, huh?" Horio smacked gum around in his mouth. He folded his arms behind his head and leaned against the lockers. "Huh, Echizen? I wonder, with my two years of tennis experience, if you're going to be in trouble or something."

"If he was going to be in trouble, then why was Fuji-senpai called to the office too?" Kachiro pointed out.

"And how does having two years of tennis experience have anything to do with it?" Katsou added slyly.

Horio sputtered indignantly, "I- I – don't question me like that! Geez!"

Ryoma closed his eyes and tried to block out the annoying chatter of his friends. Honestly, they sounded like a bunch of mosquitos buzzing irritatingly in his ears. He always tried to drown out their voices, but it was hard today because a certain someone's name kept popping up in the conversation. His stomach twisted.

After the odd ranking tournament, Coach Ryuuzaki had called Ryoma and Fuji to meet her in her office the following day during lunch. Ryoma had been horrified upon hearing the news – _why a meeting with Fuji? What the hell? Does she know I'm in love with him or something? She's probably going to try get us together! Or worse, she's going to tell me I have no chance!_

"Ah, Echizen."

"Fuji-senpai!" the freshman trio beamed happily.

Ryoma's eyes shot open, and he found himself face to face with a smiling Fuji. His heart started to do its usual _thump, thump, thump, _routine. _Damn it, how does he always catch me off guard like that? _

Ryoma stuffed a hand in his pocket and nodded. He tried to sound casual. "Hey, Fuji-senpai,"

"It's almost lunch. Want to walk with me to Ryuuzaki-sensei's office?"

The twelve-year old blinked, then awkwardly shifted his feet. His gaze averted back to the ground. "Okay," he said quietly. His voice came out delicate, almost a whisper, and Ryoma swallowed hard.

"Okay," he said a bit louder, but his throat still felt dry. "Let's go."

Fuji nodded once, and they silently began to walk down the hallway. Amidst the chaos of students rushing back and forth, Ryoma could only focus on Fuji's longer strides next to him. His heart still wheeled in circles, but he noticed that he wasn't fretting as badly as he usually did. He actually managed to look normal and confident.

"Are you okay?" Fuji asked again. A sliver of concern seeped through.

Or, well, he thought he had managed to look normal.

Ryoma clenched the straps of his school bag tightly with his fingers. "I'm fine," he said, and this time, he looked up bravely, "Why do you keep asking me that?"

Fuji's smile hardened. His voice was indifferent when he spoke. "To make sure you're okay, because you act so different around me lately."

Ryoma's eyes swept over with confusion once again. _How does he do it? One moment, his voice is gentle and soft, and the next moment, it's cold and hard and makes chills go down your spine._ The smaller boy kept his eyes on the ground as they shuffled wordlessly the rest of the way to the office. Once they were in front of the door that led inside, Ryoma tried to hustle in as quickly as he could.

Unfortunately for him, Fuji had other ideas. He stood in front of the door with his arms crossed over his chest. Soft hair framed his pale face. "Wait,"

Ryoma stopped, and clenched his fingers even tighter. His muscles coiled. "Yes?"

Fuji's gaze lingered on Ryoma's flushed face and wide golden eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered again. And before Ryoma could say a word, Fuji quickly opened the door and walked inside. Ryoma stood frozen, head dizzy and shivers running over his body.

"_I'm sorry," _Fuji's voice echoed in his mind.

Ryoma blinked in apprehension.

_For what Fuji-senpai, for what?_

* * *

Moments later, Fuji and Ryoma were seated on identical chairs across from Ryuuzaki sensei's desk. Her window was open, and bright sunlight filtered in through the window and shined on the dust of the furnitiure. Ryuuzaki-sensei turned in her swivel chair.

"So, I don't know if you're aware," Ryuuzaki-sensei jumped right in, "but from the ranking tournament held, you both were the top in both blocks."

"We were?" Ryoma said, mildly surprised. He hadn't really realized it.

"Yes, you were. Now, you must be wondering why I held such a ranking tournament out of nowhere, one that only included the regulars and consisted of simply two blocks instead of four."

"Actually, I didn't wonder," the preteen said arrogantly.

Ryuuzaki-sensei glared at him and he smirked and leaned back against his chair. He quite enjoyed getting on other people's nerves – the only people who seemed invincible to his provocations were Fuji and Tezuka. And Tezuka was halfway across the world, so right now only Fuji could keep calm.

Ryoma sneaked a peek at the tensai. There was, once again, no sign of what had happened outside the door. _I just don't get it. Why would he be sorry? He didn't do anything to me. _

"Anyway, there was a specific reason why I held the ranking tournament," Ryuuzaki-sensei unfolded a package in her hands and scanned over it. "I don't know if you're aware, but every year, in America, they hold the All-World tennis tournament for middle schools. Invitations are given out to the most exceptional tennis schools around the world."

"I've heard of it," Fuji spoke up.

Ryoma nodded. "I lived in America before, so it sounds familiar."

Ryuuzaki-sensei smiled, her eyes crinkling. "So, anyway, for the first time, our school was invited to participate. However, because it's an All-World tournament, we can't send the entire team. They said there can only be allowed a maximum of two players."

"Oh," Fuji's eyes flashed open in realization.

Ryoma blinked innocently, still not getting it.

"So, I held the ranking tournament to see what two participants would get to go to America to compete. Originally, I suspected it would be Tezuka and then you two would battle for the second spot, but since Tezuka is gone, you both are the second strongest from our regulars."

"Yeah, I know…" Ryoma bit his lip. "But…"

"So," Ryuuzaki-sensei beamed, "That's why, two weeks from now, I'm sending both of you to America to compete."

Ryoma nearly fell off his chair, but managed to keep his balance. His brain went foggy. It was supposed to be a good thing. It was _supposed _to be an excellent thing. He would get to compete with several high-level tennis players. But none of that mattered anymore.

Ryuuzaki-sensei's words transformed and twisted in his mind. _You get to go to America two weeks from now, with Fuji-senpai, alone, probably living in a hotel together, competing together, going on the plane together…both of us, alone, together, just me and him._

Ryoma gulped hard.

_How am I supposed to manage to act normal?_

He glanced beside him. He had expected Fuji to be overjoyed. The prodigy seemed like the type of person who would enjoy going to America like this and competing in such a popular tournament. Ryoma was shocked at what he saw.

Fuji stood there silently, his gaze on the window outside. There wasn't a trace of a smile on his lips.

And for the first time, a horrifying thought crept into Ryoma's mind. _What if- what if he doesn't like me? What if hates me or something? Maybe that's why he looks so upset at the prospect of spending time with me alone. And maybe that's why he said sorry, because he knew he hated me and I would be sad about that!_

Ryuuzaki-sensei broke the silence with a joyful voice. "Well, you're free to go."

Fuji bowed slightly before silently disappearing out of the office. Wordlessly, Ryoma followed, and his heart ached deep in his chest.

* * *

**There we go! I actually don't know how I feel about this story…I feel like I'm doing something wrong. Like, I don't know. It's odd. Maybe it's the way Ryoma gets around Fuji…too out of character? And Fuji…well, I don't know…I'm just confused at how I wrote this. Anyway, I'm still going to complete it though! Anyway, reviews are always appreciated!**

* * *

**By: Meadow Wood**


	2. Stringing Hope

**Loaded Soul**

* * *

**Author's Notes: **First Chapter! I'm really skeptical about this story even though people comment that they like it, but that's just me. I'm trying my best to write this without making it seem too weird, but it always turns out odd anyway.

**Side Notes: **This will be 10 chapters (excluding the Prologue) with a fair amount of word length (hopefully). **This chapter takes place two weeks later, when Ryoma and Fuji are at the airport.**

**Warning: **Around Fuji, Ryoma will probably be OOC. However, with everyone else, he will be as in character as I can make him. Fuji just has an effect on him, I suppose

* * *

Chapter One - Stringing Hope

* * *

_Maybe this won't be so bad. _

Those were Ryoma's thoughts as he sat side by side on the airplane with Fuji Syuuske. Things were actually starting to look up for him. One, he hadn't blushed, passed out of excessive breathing, said something stupid, or made a fool of himself in the past few hours, and two, he'd fallen asleep in the waiting area so he didn't really have a _chance _to do any of the things mentioned above.

Clearly, that was an improvement.

"Lucky, you got the window side," Fuji mused. He leaned against the uncomfortable airplane seats.

Ryoma didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say, since Fuji had nicely _let _him have the window seat. If the prodigy wanted it, he should have just _said _so. That was something else that was new. Ryoma had noticed that Fuji was being too nice to him. Everyone knew the older boy was gentle on the outside and a complete sadist on the in, but Ryoma had never seen him treat someone this nicely.

"So, are you excited about going to America?" Fuji asked.

Ryoma shrugged, sitting up a little straighter. "Been there before. Nothing new."

"Ah, but you haven't been there with _me_ yet," Fuji said, a twinkle in his eyes. "Everything is different when you're with me."

Ryoma rolled his eyes and glanced back out the window. Fuji was in a good mood today. Ryoma was relived. None of the sad smiles or awkward moments from two weeks ago had occurred on the trip so far. _Great. Maybe this will actually be fun. _Fuji tapped his shoulder.

"Hey, Echizen…" Fuji's smile glowed. "I have an important question to ask you."

"Oh," Ryoma shrugged again. He didn't want to seem excited about the question. _What if – what if he 's going to ask me to marry him? No, stupid! What if…he asks me if I like him? Or maybe he'll ask me if I would date him? _

"Can I call you Ryo-chan instead of Echizen?"

Ryoma's heart dropped for a moment, but it quickly rose. He fought to keep the blush off his face. "Ryo-chan?" he tried to sound irritated. "Why?"

"It has a nice ring to it," Fuji responded. "Besides, people in America use first names right? So I'm just tweaking Ryoma a bit."

"I don't like Ryo-chan," Ryoma lied, trying to sound as annoyed as possible, "but I suppose you can call me that."

Fuji's smile grew impossibly wider. "Lovely, then. Ryo-chan it is."

Ryoma opened his mouth to say something – anything at all, but preferably witty – when a sleek voice interrupted the two of them.

"Hello, would you like a mint before we take off?"

It was a beautiful air hostess dressed in a deep red uniform with a tight belt around her waist. She was undoubtly pretty, with shiny teeth and glittery eyes. However, something about her bothered Ryoma. Her gaze was directly on Fuji, and her eyelashes batted consistently like she was trying to see how fast she could blink in a minute.

Fuji smiled politely at her. "Sure, I'll take one. Thank you."

"Oh, no problem!" The flight hostess said merrily. She handed him the wrapped mint and placed it right in the palm of his hands, her fingers lingering against his skin for a moment. "You can call me Fulvia, by the way. I'll probably serve you most of the time."

"Oh, well, thank you Fulvia," Fuji said with a charming smile. Or, well, Ryoma thought it was charming anyway. His fingers dug deep into his arm rest as he tried to control his anger. _Grr…look at her…she's looking at him so lustfully…like I do! But that's me, and I'm the only one allowed to look at my Fuji like that…go away woman! He's mine! _Five seconds after his inner rant, he realized how stupid he was and tried to calm himself down.

The flight hostess and Fuji would probably never even meet again.

Fulvia started to sashay away, but Ryoma cleared his throat and glared at her, "Excuse me, but _I _would like a mint too."

The woman stopped. She looked disinterested all of a sudden. "Oh, right, sorry."

She didn't sound sorry. And she practically flung the mint into his hands before quickly walking away, throwing Fuji a desirable glance as she went. Ryoma growled lowly to himself, before roughly unwrapping the mint and shoving it in his mouth. He chewed with ire.

_Grrrr…._

_GRRRR…._

A part of him, the sane part, told him: _Stop growling like a bear, Ryoma. _The non-sane part proceeded to do the following:

_GRRRRRR!_

_GRR…GROWL…GRR…I'll eat you if you ever try to look at Fuji like that again..._

"Ryo-chan, are you alright?" Fuji said, clearly gleeful to try out the new name. This snapped Ryoma out of his frustration. He glanced up and felt the blood rush to his face – he couldn't believe how he was acting. This was ridiculous. He was not a girl, he was Echizen Ryoma, and he most definitely did not get jealous. Especially over stupid air hostesses that probably flirted with every half-decent looking guy in the plane.

_Breathe, Ryoma. _The preteen coughed, before nodding. "Sure, fine."

"Is it the takeoff?" Fuji asked softly. "It's not that scary, and if you do feel scared, you can just hold my hand."

Ryoma blinked. _Oh no, he thinks…- oh, great. But he just said I could hold his hand? Maybe I should pretend to be…no! Never! That's like girls who try to dumb themselves down just so the guy will tutor them. Not. Going. To. Happen. EVER. _

"Heh, as if," Ryoma forced on his trademark smirk. "The mint just tasted too…strong."

Fuji gave him a weird look. "I see."

Then, there was silence. And then, after the silence, was the takeoff. Ryoma had to admit, he didn't exactly like take offs – he wasn't _scared _of them, but he always felt a bit uneasy, like he was going to throw up. It was normally mild enough for him to ignore, but with Fuji's extra butterflies, he wasn't sure that was going to be the case this time.

He could feel the plane whirring loudly as they slowly lifted higher and higher into the air. Ryoma's stomach churned. _Oh man, I'm gunna puke. Stupid. Where's the dumb air bag thing anyway? _The preteen took a deep breath and wished he didn't have such a weak stomach. He closed his eyes and willed the unpleasant sensation to go away.

Fuji took the gestures the wrong way and thought he was scared. Ryoma's heart raced when he felt Fuji grip his hand tightly, squeezing it. "S'okay, Ryo-chan."

"I'm not – scared," Ryoma managed, before deciding speaking wasn't a good idea. He was going to throw up. How embarrassing. He just knew he was.

"Okay," Fuji said, amused.

Ryoma's pulse thumped. Fuji was holding his hand. The plane's nose was diving upwards. He could feel a ringing sensation in his ears. Bile rose to his throat.

And not a second later, he threw up all over the back of someone's airplane seat.

* * *

"It's not my fault," Ryoma insisted. After the takeoff had been completed and the seatbelt sign was off, Ryoma and Fuji were transferred to sit in new seats. Fulvia was left to clean up Ryoma's vomit, much to Ryoma's pleasure, and she didn't mind casting him a nasty glare as he got out his seat either. Despite that satisfaction, Ryoma felt so embarrassed.

He had thrown up. On a plane. In front of Fuji.

_What kind of loser __does__ that?! _He thought to himself incredulously.

"It's just…I felt…sick," Ryoma muttered. He didn't know why he was trying to defend himself. Fuji had already assured him that it was perfectly okay. Somehow, it still didn't sit well with Ryoma. He didn't know why it had happened either. He _never _threw up on plane rides – sure, he felt nauseas sometimes – but nothing he couldn't hold down.

_It's Fuji. With his __effect__, and the plane ride put together, it's no surprise that happened… yeah, blame it on Fuji. That's the way to go._

"Ryo-chan, it's okay, it happens," Fuji said with his ever-so gentle voice. The older boy lightly pushed Ryoma's rigid body back against the seat. "Relax, and drink your water."

"Hn…whatever," Ryoma cast a glance towards the window. The tenseness left his shoulders. Maybe he needed to actually listen to what Fuji was saying for once – relax. He needed to relax. _Good idea, if only it was possible around Fuji… _the twelve-year was so frustrated he actually thought about getting up and quitting this whole thing right then and there. Going back to Seigaku, leaving Fuji here in America stranded, and getting his life back.

But did he really want that? _Life without Fuji…is not a life at all._

"Ryo-chan, while we're on the plane, wanna play a game? To pass the time?"

Ryoma stiffened. "Game?"

"Nothing weird, I promise," Fuji nodded reassuringly. His smile was eerily calm. "Just something simple. I ask you a question, and you have to answer truthfully. In turn, you get to ask me a question. How does it sound?"

_It sounds like a bad, __bad __idea? _

Ryoma forced a smile. "Fine. But I go first."

Fuji didn't seem concerned at all. He sat back, hands in his lap, posture perfectly relaxed. Ryoma, in comparison, was sweating it out. _What if he asks something like…who do you like? What if he…what if…the possibilities are endless! He could ask me why I've been acting weird, or why I keep turning red when he comes near me…_

"Ah, are you going to go?"

Ryoma snapped his head up. "Right. Okay. Fuji-senpai…" His mind scrambled for a question. "Do you – do you-" his eyes trailed to his water bottle. "-drink water?"

_Stupid!_

Fuji's perfect smile didn't waver. "As a matter of fact, I do. Although it's rather plain. I prefer Inui's juice. It's much tastier."

Ryoma, in the middle of mentally beating himself up for asking such a dumb question, quickly frowned. "Fuji-senpai is weird."

"Perhaps," Fuji said, tone airy. His eyes opened for a moment, electrifying blue, and a mischevious glint glared back at Ryoma. "Now, for my question, I want to know, how many times to you take a shower?"

Ryoma's breath left him. "What?"

"How many times do you take a shower, per day?" Fuji asked, innocently.

Ryoma felt embarrassed, like he was naked or something. The question was so _weird _– weirder than the one he himself had blurted out. He wondered if Fuji was imagining him naked in the shower right now. His face flushed deep red. "Why?" he mumbled, barely audible.

Fuji tilted his head up towards the ceiling. "Oh, no reason, merely curious."

"Oh, uh, well…" Ryoma suddenly felt even more embarrassed. He kind of wanted to lie, but the whole point of the game was to not lie. "Three times."

Fuji raised an eyebrow. "That's a little…extreme. Why would you take a shower three times a day, anyway?"

Ryoma swallowed, and attempted to appear normal. "It's just, I take one in the morning before leaving school, and then, we have tennis practice after school so I take one when I get home…and then, normally, I play a match with Oyaji, so I end up taking one before bed too…"

_That sounded utterly lame. _Ryoma cursed in his head. _What kind of person takes three showers in a day? If I think Fuji's weird, he must think I'm an alien or something._

Fuji just smiled. "Interesting. You're a hygiene freak, then?"

Ryoma scowled, "No."

"It seems like it."

"No. I'm not."

Before Fuji could continue to insist he was an apparent hygiene freak, Ryoma interrupted him with his question. He hadn't meant to say it, really. It was something that had been on his mind for quite some time, but it wasn't anything he would have asked out loud. However, it sort of just slipped and now he waited for answer.

"What's your biggest fear, Fuji-senpai?"

In a flash, Fuji's protective walls went up. His eyes hardened and his smile had no warmth behind it. It was the kind of question a person like Fuji would hate – and Ryoma already regretted asking it. Fuji always hid his weaknesses and kept his emotions in check. To everyone, he appeared to be the most perfect person, with absolutely no flaws.

That's why Ryoma had asked the question. He was just curious.

"Why?" Fuji asked. His voice was soft, malicious.

Ryoma turned his head away. "Just asking,"

There was a trembling silence. Ryoma stared out at the long vast of blue out the window. The plane's calm whirring comforted him, and he checked his watch. Around two and a half hours had passed since they had boarded. To go to America, it would take approximately twelve hours. _Great, just great, ten more hours on this plane with Fuji-senpai…_

"My biggest fear…"

Fuji's voice slid across the air like venom. Ryoma snapped his head towards him.

"…is hurting the one I love."

The last words were spoken so softly, almost like a whisper, that Ryoma barely caught what he said. His grip tightened on the armrest. A loud shattering rung in his ears. Ryoma wondered if that was the sound of his heart breaking into a million little pieces. _The one I love…_ he felt shaky, dizzy all of a sudden. _Fuji loves someone? No, no…that…I mean, I never expected to have a chance with him anyway…but I didn't know…he __has __someone…_

His throat hurt. Ryoma's nails dug into the palms of his hands.

"Are you alright, Echizen?" Fuji asked. Despite the question, his tone was as cold as ice. Ryoma's stomach sunk. _He just called me Echizen? Didn't he say he was going to call me Ryo-chan? Is he…mad at me for asking that question? Was it too personal? _Ryoma took a deep breath. He hated this, he really did. He never doubted himself, or second-guessed, or felt insecure before. And now, suddenly, Fuji was capable of making him feel awful.

Ryoma turned back towards the window, away from Fuji. "Fine. It's your turn to ask."

There was a moment of silence.

"I don't want to play anymore. Sorry, Echizen."

* * *

"Would you like a drink?" Fulvia's eyes were bright as she brought the cart over to where Fuji and Ryoma were sitting. Ryoma glared viciously at her, but she seemed unaffected. Her gaze was once against solely focused on Fuji, admiring his lean muscles and pretty-boy features.

"Water," Fuji said.

"Of course," Fulvia fluttered her lashes rapidly, before elegantly pouring water into a glass. She handed it to Fuji with a sweet smile. "Hope you're enjoying your flight."

"Ah," Fuji sipped on his water. The coldness from his expression had vanished, but he had yet to acknowledge Ryoma after the question he had asked. Ryoma wondered what the big deal was._ Fuji_ had been the one to suggest the game. _It's not my fault he can't handle answering some questions, _the preteen thought bitterly.

Fulvia turned to Ryoma. Her lips curled in disgust, and Ryoma knew she was thinking back to having to clean up his vomit. _What's her age anyway? Isn't she a little too old to be hitting on Fuji-senpai?_

"And would you like a drink?" Fulvia asked. Her eyes were bored.

Ryoma snapped. She was promptly hurting his pride while simultaneously making him jealous. "Yeah, Ponta,"

Fulvia rolled her eyes. "I'm afraid we don't have that. Sorry. Anything else?"

Ryoma bore his gaze into hers. "Milk, then."

Fulvia poured the milk in slow motion. When Ryoma leaned over to grab the glass from her grip, he added cheekily:

"Oh, by the way, I think you've got some lipstick on your teeth."

The flush on Fulvia's face made Ryoma smirk. He sat back down and sipped innocently on his milk. _It's not like I said anything that rude. Besides, she totally deserved it. _From the corner of his vision, he could see Fuji's smile tense once again. Ryoma's pleasure dissipated. _Fuji-senpai, why won't you talk to me? I didn't do anything…_

Ryoma cleared his throat, "Fuji-senpai…"

The prodigy shifted to look at him. He looked like he was struggling to keep calm. "Yes?"

"I – I-" Ryoma swallowed thickly. He couldn't manage to apologize – his pride wouldn't let him. He thought it would have been easier since it was Fuji, but his words were stuck in his throat. Besides, he wasn't even sure why he was apologizing. He had asked a simple question, and Fuji had gotten defensive. _His fault, not mine. _

"What is it, Echizen?"

Ryoma coughed, "Uh…how's…the water?"

Fuji didn't look at him. His head stayed duck down towards the airplane trays. "Fine,"

The word was simple, but Fuji's soft voice, filled with eloquence, made Ryoma's stomach flutter. He wondered what was wrong, and why Fuji was _so _cold towards him all of a sudden. It couldn't have been just because of one question. _Why do I feel like he's hiding something? _The boy slumped in his seat. He wished they'd never played that stupid game. He would choose Fuji's gentle smile and concerned voice over his sadistic side any day.

Ryoma's eyes flashed with foreign emotion. His brow crinkled.

'_My biggest fear is hurting the one I love…'_

'…_.the one I love…'_

The twelve-year old's fists clenched impossibly tighter. The curiosity was killing him, but in the end, it didn't really matter who it was. As long as it wasn't him, it hurt. Trying to distract himself from the pain of unrequited love, Ryoma glanced back down at his watch. Four hours. _Damn it, still eight whole hours to go! With one angry Fuji-senpai!_

* * *

Six hours into the plane ride and Ryoma was absolutely dying of boredom. The stomach-twisting-teeth-grinding-face-flushing symptoms that arose when he was around Fuji had completely disappeared. Instead, he felt almost normal. And bored. And Fuji-senpai still wouldn't speak to him.

Ryoma was perpetually confused about what he did that was _so _bad but he had given up trying to figure it out. He had also stopped thinking about the whole 'who does Fuji-senpai love' fiasco because it was just tormenting his poor mind.

With nothing to do, Ryoma opened up his backpack and shuffled through it. He pulled out a blank sketchbook his mother had packed. _Geez, I don't even like drawing… _he sighed and sharpened his pencil, _but I suppose it's better than nothing._

Ryoma stared at the paper. The blankness stared eerily back at him. Oddly, the white sheet reminded him of Fuji. It was clearly there, full of so many possibilities, and yet he was afraid to make a move.

_I'm so lame, _Ryoma recited in his mind. He was actually starting to think that Fuji was unhealthy for him. Ryoma had always been cool and collected before – now, he was a complete, insecure mess. The boy fiddled with his pencil for a while before hesitantly making a small curved line on the paper. The movements were tentative and slow.

_This feels weird. It's really been forever since I've drew something._

He narrowed his eyes and thought hard of what to draw. A half an hour later, he had an idea, and an hour after that and the page was full.

* * *

"Tennis?" Fuji said. He sounded amused. "I'm not surprised."

Ryoma whipped his head up from sketchbook to look at Fuji. It had been almost four hours since the prodigy had freely spoken to him. The preteen glanced back at the page he had drew on. It was a simple picture of a tennis court with arrows pointing everywhere. It wasn't really a drawing – more of a diagram.

It was an outline of a new move he was thinking of trying.

"Yeah," Ryoma said, and was surprised when this time, his _own _voice came out cold. He hadn't realized it, but he was kind of angry at Fuji for ignoring him for so long.

Fuji didn't seem to notice. "Do you like to draw?"

Ryoma stared at his messy tennis court. "No," he said, and he knew his work showed it. "I just got bored."

Fuji's smile widened. Ryoma felt warm and gooey on the inside, but he refused to show it on his face. He didn't want the older male to know how happy he was he was finally talking to him again.

"If you're bored," Fuji offered, "We could continue the question game."

Ryoma's pencil froze midstroke. His teeth clenched, and he gripped the pencil so tightly he was sure it was about to snap in half. _Fuji-senpai no baka! _He couldn't help it – he actually wanted to scream and push Fuji off the plane window. _How dare he suggest playing the game, after being all mean and saying he didn't want to anymore? And how DARE he sound so innocent and casual about it? It's not fair, not fair at all…how come he gets to be so calm while I'm frantically panicking every five seconds?_

"No thanks, Fuji-senpai," Ryoma's voice was rough. He sneered, "I'm not in the mood."

"Echizen-"

Ryoma hunched over his sketchbook. He clearly conveyed that he was _not _going to give in. Ryoma was glad for the change of atmosphere. For once, he was the one making the calls. _I should have done this a long time ago. I shouldn't let him push me around. Well, he's not really pushing me around, he's just…it's like he's playing with my feelings. I hope not. I really, really hope that's not it._

"Okay," Fuji said in a pleasant voice. "It was my turn, right? Hm, let's see. How about…do you remember your dreams?"

Ryoma stared at him, jaw slack. _That asshole! _The younger boy couldn't believe it. Fuji was actually pretending that Ryoma hadn't said anything.

_Well, I'll be damned before I answer that stupid question. What kind of question is that anyway? Do you remember your dreams? Pfft, well, 'course not, most people don't, stupid, asshole, jerk, idiot, baka- _Meanwhile, during his inner rant, Ryoma managed to keep a perfectly bored expression on the outside. He thanked god he was good at hiding his emotions, or it wouldn't be a pretty sight.

Fuji sighed. "I see. You're not going to answer?"

"I'm not playing," Ryoma pointed out.

The tennis genius sat still for a moment. "Okay. That's fair, Echizen. But I don't see why you're so angry."

_What. An. Ass._

Ryoma closed his sketchbook with a thud. He threw it into his bag like it was a piece of trash and he hadn't spent the past hour putting effort into its content. Fuji just didn't make any sense, and Ryoma was starting to get tired of all the games. _He asks me why I'M angry? He was the one who was all cold and mean for no reason…_

"You know what," Ryoma said slowly, about to make a grand, witty comment to shut Fuji right up. Fuji turned to give him his full attention.

Ryoma glared. "You are soo-"

"Juice?" Fulvia's cheerful voice rang in his ears as she lugged the cart up to them. Her teeth shone like white stars. "Juice, anyone?"

* * *

Finally, after twelve hours of excruciating, painful Fuji-senpai mind-boggling, the plane got ready to descend. Ryoma closed his eyes tightly as he buckled up his seatbelt. This time, his main goal was to focus on not throwing up. He knew the chance was rare, especially since he'd barely eaten anything during the past twelve hours (for some reason, he hadn't been that hungry. He wondered whose fault that was)

"Are you scared?" Fuji asked, a slight tease in his voice.

Ryoma shot him a cold look, before returning to staring out the window. The seatbelt pressed tightly against his stomach, or maybe that was just his nerves. He wasn't sure what he was nervous about – Fuji, in general? That was a good enough reason as any. He also was pondering if he should stay mad at Fuji for ignoring him any longer.

Fuji stared at ahead at the leather seat in front of him. He seemed to be in deep concentration. "Look, Echizen," he said softly.

"I thought it was Ryo-chan," Ryoma said dryly; bitterly. He couldn't help himself.

Fuji ignored the comment. "I'm sorry that I was ignoring you,"

_An apology? _Ryoma raised an eyebrow and twisted in his seat to face Fuji. The prodigy's eyes were dark and icy, and Ryoma felt his blood run cold. It was the oddest thing – everything about Fuji was thrilling. Just being in his presence made Ryoma anxious and excited. He also felt kind of safe with Fuji, because he knew the genius would hurt whoever tried to harm him.

But when Fuji opened his eyes, Ryoma felt almost scared. It hurt his pride to even accept it in his mind, but it was the truth.

"Ch'," Ryoma faced the window again. He grumbled, "S'okay."

A minute passed, before Ryoma felt Fuji place his hand atop his.

"We're landing," the prodigy said.

Ryoma leaned back as the familiar whirring returned. They were descending – and as he felt the plane whoosh loudly, his ears plugged, and the exotic sensation of Fuji's skin tingle with his own, he got the strange feeling today was just the beginning of a rollercoaster ride that was never going to end.

"Ryoma?" Fuji yelled over the loud noise of the plane. Ryoma glanced to the side, and saw Fuji's mouth move as he spoke. The words were completely drowned out.

Ryoma shrugged and closed his eyes tightly as the plane finally landed onto surface.

'_to hurt the person I love…'_

The stabbing feeling in his chest returned.

_Who is it, Fuji-senpai? And why can't it be me instead?_


	3. Downfall

**Loaded Soul**

**Author's Notes: **I highly encourage you NOT to read this story. It's become somewhat of a shrine combined of all my bad writing skills. Maybe I'm over exaggerating. Ryoma's become a girl. I suppose, at this point, we should all blame Fuji? I'm not exactly sure. The thing I think that really irks me about this story is the TRANSITIONS! The events don't flow with each other at all. I don't know why that is. I think it's because I planned what would happen in each chapter beforehand, and thus was reduced to this.

I already have four chapters written, but I was completely stalling posting because of how anxious I was of posting them. This chapter's pretty old though.

* * *

**Chapter Two - Downfall**

* * *

Ryoma was utterly exhausted by the time they reached the hotel.

He forced his feet up the flight of stairs, eyes drowsy and mind overloaded. Spending twelve hours with no one but Fuji was capable of doing that to a person, and Ryoma was no exception. He lugged his suitcase along with him, not bothering to see if Fuji was following him. He just wanted to get in their room, collapse on the bed, and fall asleep.

The hotel they were spending the night in was nothing fancy, but not rundown either. The walls were freshly coated and the place seemed to be clean, but if one looked closely, they could see the faint cracks in the corners and the ruggedness of the carpet. Ryoma was _not _one to look closely, as he was already half-asleep.

When he reached the room number, he realized with dismay that Fuji had the key card. "Fuji-senpai," Ryoma grumbled, "Hurry up."

"Someone's grumpy," Fuji said in a pleasant voice as he rounded up the stairs with his own suitcase.

Ryoma just blinked wearily and tried to keep himself awake for a moment longer, not in the mood to deal with Fuji. He was still a little bit in awe at how the prodigy had managed to maintain a clean, fresh look throughout twelve hours on a plane. The smile was still plastered on his face and not a single strand of honey-brown hair was out of place.

Fuji clicked the key in place, and waited for the green light to flash. The moment it did, Ryoma pushed past him and shoved open the door.

He stopped short. "Fuji-senpai," Ryoma said quietly, and every muscle in his body tensed.

"Yes?" Fuji asked calmly upon entering the room.

Ryoma tried to control his breathing rate, which had upped double in less than a second. He could feel the familiar sweaty, flushed, anxious symptoms that came along with Fuji return, and he was starting to wonder if he had panic attacks or something. Or Fuji-panic attacks. Nevertheless, he stared at the room with dread in the pit of his stomach.

"Why is there only one bed?" Ryoma finally asked, trying to sound casual while his heart raced off its wagon.

Fuji's reply was clipped, "Well, we are two boys, so I suppose Ryuuzaki-sensei didn't think it would be an issue for us to share a bed when she booked the hotel room," he turned his serene gaze to Ryoma. "I don't see an issue with it. The bottom of his lip quirked into a small smirk, "Is it a problem for you?"

_I see how it is. _Ryoma forced a smirk back. "Of course not."

Fuji, perpetually smiling, set his suitcase down on the ground. Ryoma glanced past the fact that there was a double bed, trying his best not to think about how he was going to sleep that night, and instead taking in the room. It was rather small, but clean, with a single bathroom and a small television in the corner.

"I call taking a shower first!" Ryoma suddenly said, aware that Fuji was taking out his towel from his suitcase. _No way, I'm the one that's exhausted and needs a nice hot bath and then some sleep, not you. Most definitely not you._

Fuji chuckled, dropping his towel back in the suitcase. "That's fine by me."

_Wonderful, _Ryoma thought, racing into the bathroom and shutting the door hard behind him. Once he was safe and out of Fuji-observing range, Ryoma slumped against the door tiredly. This was _so _frustrating – all he wanted was to collapse onto the bed and start dreaming about a place where Fuji's didn't exist, when suddenly, he was going to be in such close proximities with the older boy.

_Why can't anything with Fuji be simple?_

Sighing to himself, Ryoma stripped and stepped into the shower. The moment he turned on the hot water, he relaxed and leaned against the tiled wall. He knew he needed to stop busying himself with Fuji and focus on the fact that he had a match to play tomorrow. _We should have left earlier instead of having to play a match the moment we arrive, _Ryoma thought, shutting his eyes. He was in no mood to wake up bright and early the following morning, even if it was to play tennis.

As the water spilled over his smooth body, Ryoma's mind absentmindedly thought about the plane ride, and his gut twisted uncomfortably. He couldn't believe Fuji actually loved someone. He had no idea who it could be, because he had never seen Fuji speak or act 'lovingly' towards anyone. _Hurt the person I love? _Ryoma furrowed his brow, and wondered if Fuji already had a boyfriend.

But if he did…wouldn't Ryoma have known by now?

_Wait, why am I saying boyfriend? Fuji's probably not even gay like me, and probably has some pretty girl. _Ryoma's frown deepened. Life was complicated. It never even occurred to him until now that Fuji was most likely into girls. Most boys _were_, after all.

There was a faint knock on the door. "Are you almost done?"

Ryoma closed his eyes tightly, willing himself to return to the normal Echizen Ryoma, willing these weird feelings to go away. Quietly, he slipped out of the shower and wrapped a white towel around his body (his full body, because he felt awkward around Fuji) and stumbled out of the bathroom. Fuji glanced up when he did.

"Ah, you're out," Fuji said softly, and his eyes lingered on Ryoma's dripping hair and flushed cheeks.

The boy averted his gaze towards the floor. "Yeah."

Fuji smiled and stood up, towel and clothes in hand as he brushed past Ryoma towards the bathroom. Just as he passed by, he stopped, and his smile grew impossibly wider. "Ryo-chan, you smell very nice," he said softly, breath brushing against Ryoma's nape.

Ryoma nearly jumped, and whirled away from him. "Thanks," he snapped, the bridge of his nose streaked pink.

Fuji just grinned before disappearing into the bathroom.

_He knows, he must know I like him, _Ryoma thought, exhaustedly plopping down onto the edge of the bed, towel sliding off his shoulder. _Why else is he teasing me like this? It's not fair, he keeps playing mind games, when I'm actually serious. Does he not care that it hurts me? _Ryoma grabbed his PJ's from his suitcase and pulled them on._Or maybe he really doesn't know that I like him, but that seems pretty unlikely. Fuji-senpai knows everything._

As Ryoma finished buttoning up his pajama top, he noticed a book poking out of Fuji's unzipped suitcase. Curious to see what Fuji liked to read, Ryoma bent down and grabbed the book into his hands. The cover said _Fuji Syuuske _in pretty lettering, and the book felt rather heavy. _Is this a book or- _Ryoma flicked it to the front page. A nice portrait picture of Fuji stuck out. _A photo album?_

Ryoma eagerly flipped to the following page. Two pictures of Fuji when he was a little kid stood out. Ryoma blinked and stared at it for a moment. In the picture, Fuji was eating ice cream with Yuuta. His blue eyes were wide and sparkling, and the smile on his face was friendly. _Fuji-senpai looks so happy in these pictures, _Ryoma thought with warm eyes, _He seems free._

Ryoma continued to flip through the photo album, in awe at all the pictures of Fuji as a little kid. As the pictures got more recent though, Ryoma started to see hints of Fuji's current attitude. Eyes closed, smile deceivingly gentle… Ryoma sighed and touched one of the pictures, wondering what had happened to the kid-Fuji who smiled so real and cheerfully.

When Ryoma turned to the next page, his eyes furrowed. Fuji looked around twelve in the picture, and his arms were around another very cute boy. Ryoma felt a stab of jealousy, and then told himself he was being stupid. It was probably Fuji's cousin or something. However, as he continued flipping through the album, nearly each picture included Fuji and the other boy.

_Who is this boy? _Ryoma thought as he landed on yet another picture of Fuji and the boy.

"What are you doing?"

Ryoma snapped his head up, and his eyes locked with Fuji's blue ones. The older male was standing there with a towel around his waist, lean muscles clearly shown, but Ryoma couldn't ogle over them at the moment. Fuji's face was devoid of any smile and held an expression of anger instead.

"That's mine," Fuji said coldly.

Ryoma stared down at the album, and quickly tucked it back into the suitcase. "I was just looking."

"You should _ask _before you touch stuff," Fuji said, eyes narrowing. "That's mine, and it's private."

Ryoma swallowed hard. "I didn't know." _Apologize, stupid!_

Fuji shot him a menacing glare, but after a second, his eyes softened. He swiftly walked over to his suitcase and zipped it up firmly. When he looked back up, he paused, and his damp hair hung around the frame of his face. "Just ask before you touch my stuff, okay?" he said, and he forced a strained smile onto his face, "I'm just a bit possessive about my belongings."

_No, you're not, _Ryoma thought, _You're hiding something, I know it. _"Okay," he said quietly, keeping his thoughts to himself.

Fuji didn't say anything for a moment. Ryoma thought for a minute he would apologize for getting so mad. He didn't.

"We should get some sleep. The tournament starts tomorrow,"

Ryoma slid into the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin, right on the opposite edge. "Whatever."

He closed his eyes and rolled over to the side, realizing exactly how tired he was. The muscles in his eyelids ached with the need to sleep, and his entire body was exhausted from the plane ride. Not to mention, all the Fuji-overthinking had given his mind a headache. Cuddling up to the pillow, it didn't take long for him to get drowsy.

A second before sleep came; he felt movement beside him as Fuji slipped into the bed as well. Ryoma inhaled the fresh scent of showered-Fuji, and his muscles relaxed further. Then, his eyes flung wide open. Why could he smell Fuji so clearly-? Ryoma tensed, and turned his neck slightly to find Fuji right up next to him, smiling with his eyes closed.

His throat went tight. _What?_

"Good night, Ryo-chan," Fuji said gently, and his arm slid under Ryoma and around his waist.

Ryoma's mind went fuzzy, and his fists curled around the blankets. Fuji had his arm around him. In a bed. The older male was so close Ryoma could practically feel the slightly wet skin against his own, and the fresh breath near his ear every time Fuji exhaled. Ryoma trembled, worrying that he wouldn't be able to sleep that night. But then Fuji said quietly, in such a sweet, gentle, caring tone: "Go to sleep,"

And Ryoma decided to obey, drifting off to dreamland with a single last thought floating around in his head:

_Maybe we __**do**__ have something after all._

XXX

Ryoma stood in the hot America heat with his cap pulled over his forehead and his gaze on the ground. The stadium was crowded and filled, and the close proximities only intensified the temperature. The twelve-year old sat beside Fuji with a frown on his face, despite the fact that he should be pumped that the matches were about to begin.

Among the bench were two candidates from several schools and countries, and normally Ryoma would be interested in his opponents, but today, he couldn't be bothered. He was in a very _bad _mood. In the morning following the night before, Fuji had acted like nothing had happened in bed. _Okay, so we didn't really do anything, but he put his arm around me! _Ryoma exclaimed to himself as he recited the events,_And then he just totally ignored me the entire morning!_

During breakfast and on their way to the stadium, Fuji had stopped the subtle flirting and teasing, along with any gestures that they might be more than friends. He almost acted like the first time they met, before they had a connection, before the thrill between them had formed. He acknowledged Ryoma, but nothing after that.

_Why is he doing this to me?! _Ryoma thought, irritated. Even now, Fuji was sitting beside him listening to music, not bothering to talk to Ryoma. It was almost as if the spark from the night before had completely vanished.

"And now, to start off the preliminary rounds," A man dressed formally in a suit spoke into the microphone, blaring it through the stadium. "The first match will be held between the school Seigaku from Japan and Lake Avenue from America. Let's give a round of applause for our first two teams."

Fuji and Ryoma stood up simultaneously. Further down, two other boys dressed in red-and-white also stood up, _Lake Avenue _emblazoned on the shoulder of their jerseys.

"You're first, right?" Ryoma ran his fingers along his own tennis racket.

Fuji smiled sunnily, not looking at him. The only indication that showed that he had heard Ryoma was the slightest of nods.

_What the hell? _Ryoma gripped the racket tighter in his hands, the boiling heat along with Fuji's perpetual confusion irritating his mind out. "I asked a question," Ryoma snapped, and turned to face Fuji with his chin tilted up.

Fuji picked up his own tennis racket from the bench. "Ah, yes. I'm first."

"The first match will be between Syusuke Fuji and Alec Ward."

Fuji walked swiftly towards his side of the court, not bothering to even glance at Ryoma as he went. Ryoma had planned on wishing the prodigy good luck – even though he didn't need it – but that idea was done for now. _I hope he loses, I hope he loses 0-6 and humiliates himself, I hope he –_

"15-0!"

Ryoma sighed and twiddled with his water bottle as Fuji got a service ace. It was hopeless to think Fuji would lose in the preliminary rounds. The rest of the game went by uneventfully. Prelimaries were always like that, and Ryoma had no doubt that Fuji and he would destroy everyone up until the quarter finals. Then, the challenges would begin. As Fuji lifted the ball up to serve once again, Ryoma couldn't help but admire the lithe body and lean muscles.

Unlike Momoshiro or Kawamura, or any of the players aside from himself, Fuji was slender yet strong. Ryoma thought it made Fuji look more attractive that way, then reminded himself that Fuji was an ass and changed his mind. _Fuji isn't attractive, he's skinny and lanky and girly, that's right, not attractive at all, I'm staring at him because of how ugly he is, not because I can't keep my eyes away-_

"Game set and match, Syusuke Fuji from Seigaku!"

Ryoma blinked. That was quick.

He watched as Fuji calmly walked over to the net to shake hands with this 'mada mada dane' player Alec Ward. Ryoma realized that his match was next and he should have started warming up. _Damn it Fuji, you always ruin everything, _he thought to himself as he quickly stood up and started doing some stretches. Even with his back strained as he touched his toes, he couldn't help but glance up at Fuji.

Ryoma's throat went tight.

Fuji's hand was still lingering on this Alec guy's hand, and they were smiling at each other under the sunlight. _Shake hands, _Ryoma swallowed thickly and stood up for a moment, observing. They continued to just let their hands lie on top of one another, before Alec finally squeezed it tightly and gave it a firm shake.

Ryoma watched in disbelief as they started to walk towards the bench, _still _holding hands. For a moment, Ryoma felt like getting up and punching that Alec guy right in the face, and making his nose bleed and stream down his face and into his mouth. He stood their angrily, gold eyes hurt and confused as Fuji grabbed a towel with his free hand and brushed it against his forehead. _I guess that's just how Fuji is, flirting with everyone and anyone, and I'm just one of them._ But even with that reasonable explanation, Ryoma was mad anyway.

_But their holding hands! Could Alec be Fuji's boyfriend? But they didn't act like they knew each other before, and Fuji would have mentioned…but at least that means Fuji's gay! Or maybe he flirts with guys and girls. _Ryoma glared at Fuji as the prodigy playfully used the towel to wipe off Alec's forehead as well.

_Fine, then. _Ryoma gritted his teeth. "Hey, Fuji-senpai," he smirked. "That your boyfriend?"

Fuji looked straight at him and smiled. "Now why would you think that?"

Ryoma dropped his gaze and muttered, "You _are _holding hands."

Fuji opened his mouth slightly and looked down at their interlocked hands. He glanced at Alec and then said nonchalantly, "Whoops, I didn't even realize," he acted surprised and removed his hand from Alec, who just laughed.

_Is he doing this on purpose? _Ryoma felt so stupid just standing there watching them flirt. He could already tell that they were just having fun, and it was nothing serious, but it still hurt. Why did Fuji have to keep playing games with him? _Why? Why? Why?_Ryoma was sick of the single word and grabbed his racket roughly.

"Mada mada dane, Fuji-senpai," he said, before he stormed off to his side of the court. He vowed to take his anger out on the match and win without letting the opponent gain a single point.

As he went, he heard Fuji say quietly, "Good luck," but decided he was hearing things.

It was safe to say, that every time Ryoma saw Fuji and Alec flirting from the corner of his eye, the opponent ended up getting a Drive A in the face. The match most definitely ended in Ryoma's favour.


	4. Rising Again

**A/N: **Have I mentioned my dislike to this story? xD I know, my bitching is probably be getting annoying, but once again, I encourage you not to read it. It's just getting more wordy and sucky by each chapter. Well, actually, that's a lie. This chapter's horrible, but I quite like the one where Fuji and Ryoma go on a date. But... - oh wait, you weren't supposed to know that. Oh, well. xD I won't backspace now. And I couldn't be bothered to edit. I want to go watch some more Death Note, okay? xD

SyrenHug finally managed to get me to post this. ;)

* * *

Chapter Three – Rising Again

"Ryo-chan, are you ignoring me?" Fuji said sweetly as he sipped on his cup of coffee. They were sitting in the breakfast café after much insistence from Fuji, and for some reason, Fuji had decided to talk to Ryoma again. _Geez, make up your mind!_Ryoma thought this as he took his own sip of his milk.

After being ignored and hurt yesterday, Ryoma had decided enough was enough, and that he needed revenge. So, he formed the grand idea of ignoring Fuji back and pretending he wasn't being affected by his casual flirting with other people. However, Fuji had chosen that time to throw a wrench in his plans and start talking with him again.

"Ryoma," Fuji said, honey-brown hair soft in the filtering sunlight. "You're really being mean."

Ryoma's fingers tightened around his mug. _Will. Not. Respond._

"After I bought you that milk, too"

_Ignore him Ryoma, ignore him._

Fuji tipped his head innocently. "Have I done something to upset you?"

Ryoma gritted his teeth. He couldn't take it anymore. "Yes," he snapped, gold eyes ablaze. He stood up, pushing his chair in. " and if you can't figure out what, then you really _are_an idiot Fuji-senpai,"

Fuji stood up as well, facing Ryoma with a suddenly serious aura. Ryoma swallowed and took a step back as Fuji closed the space between them, his lithe body inches away from Ryoma's own. At first, Ryoma's mind spun with questions, but one look at Fuji's face told him they weren't actually going to do anything. "I didn't mean to ignore you yesterday," Fuji said quietly.

Ryoma had learned that when Fuji said 'I didn't mean to' he was actually trying to apologize.

"How can you not _mean_to?" Ryoma finished off his mug and placed it down on the coffee table.

"There are reasons."

"_What_reasons?"

Fuji's smile tightened. "Let's forget about this."

He started to walk towards the door, but Ryoma took a deep breath and grabbed him by the elbow. The prodigy stopped in his tracks.

"Echizen?" he asked warningly, looking over his shoulder. "Let's go."

"No," Ryoma said simply. "I want answers."

There was a moment in which Ryoma felt like they were the only two in the breakfast café. Silence beckoned, and Fuji stayed completely still. Then, in a flash, he roughly pulled away from Ryoma and started to walk again, not bothering to look back. Ryoma stood rooted on the spot, wishing desperately he could have the courage to just walk back to the hotel room.

Instead, he clenched his fist and trailed after Fuji.

XXX

When he reached Fuji, Ryoma noticed that the tennis genius had gone back to smiling with his eyes closed and a relaxed expression on his face. Ryoma was constantly amazed at how Fuji could act like nothing had happened in less than a split second. _Well, I'll be damned if I let this go,_"Fuji-senpai," Ryoma uttered.

Fuji glanced at him. "Yes, Ryo-chan?"

_Back to Ryo-chan? Echizen, Ryo-chan, Ryoma…make up your mind!_

"How come you're being so weird?" Ryoma sped up his pace to keep up with Fuji.

Fuji tilted his head up to the arch of a rainbow up in the sky. It was faint, and the grass smelled of rain. "Isn't it you who is being weird?"

Ryoma frowned and slowed down so he could contemplate what Fuji had said. Was it him that was being weird? _Maybe Fuji-senpai always acts like this, but I never noticed because I didn't like him before. That must be it! After all, if Fuji flirted with people before, I probably wouldn't have even cared. Still, he got so mad about that photo album before, and sometimes it feels like there's actually something between us…'Ch, all this thinking is hurting my head._

Ryoma sighed. Tezuka would be handy right now, with his Advil bottle.

"Forgot about everything," Fuji said softly, stopping a turning around. He put a hand on Ryoma's shoulder, who felt the immediate electric rush. "Remember today, we have a doubles game? We need to be in sync, not fighting with each other if we want to win."

"It's the preliminary round," Ryoma pointed out, shrugging Fuji's hand off and walking ahead. "It'll be easy."

_I forgot, we're playing a doubles match today. We already won our singles, and it was really easy, so doubles shouldn't be too hard._

As Ryoma walked, he realized he had no idea where they were going. He turned back. "Uh, Fuji-senpai, where are we goi-"

"The stadium," Fuji interrupted, checking his watch. His blue eyes shimmered under the sunlight. "Our match starts in an hour."

XXX – PRELIMNARY ROUND 2 – DOUBLES

The second time Ryoma sat down in the stadium bench, he was in a good mood. Things between him and Fuji had turned rather pleasant – not sensual at all, but more like friends. Ryoma could settle for that, especially if it kept him from overthinking and losing his mind. Ryoma absentmindedly swung his racket, preparing for his match alongside Fuji.

"Ready, Fuji-senpai?" Ryoma smirked.

"I should be asking you the same question," Fuji said in his same alluring drawl. "After all, your doubles play isn't exactly exemplary."

"That's because Momo-senpai likes to hog the court," Ryoma rolled his eyes, swinging the racket and loving the sound of the whooshing wind that followed. The crowd was full yet again, but the weather was beautiful. The rain had cooled down the heat, leaving a pleasant breeze in the air. Ryoma felt pumped for the match, despite that it was doubles.

The same announcer from before stood at a podium, microphone up to his mouth. "The third doubles match will be between Seigaku from Japan and Mount Laisse from Australia,"

Ryoma and Fuji, who were already standing up, put down their rackets. A few benches down, two guys also stood up, dressed in black shorts and a white-and-black jersey. Fuji frowned as he observed them, and nudged Ryoma slightly. "They look rough," he whispered quietly. "And they're quite big too."

Ryoma frowned at that as well. Fuji and he both relied on skill and talent to overpower those who used their bodies to their advantage. Still, he smiled confidently and replied, "Who cares? If they're shots are really powerful, we can do two-handed returns," he thought for a moment, and his smirk grew. "Besides, I nearly returned Kawamura-senpai's hadokyuu before."

"I suppose," was all Fuji said in reply. He stood up and grabbed his racket. "Let's go."

When they got into the positions, Ryoma decided to jump right into the twist serve. With amazing grace, he got the ball to bounce and spin right towards the opponents face. He wasn't sure what the guy's name was, but he had ugly yellow hair. It sliced right past his ear and hit the ground with a thud.

"15-0!"

"Nice one, Echizen!" Fuji called.

Ryoma felt his heart flutter, before he bent his knees to serve again. Each one was unreturnable and they ended up winning the first game.

"Switch court!"

He joined Fuji as they walked over towards the other side of the court. As they brushed past the opposing team, he could feel their glares burning into his back, but simply smirked. He loved when people tried to act intimidating just because they were bigger than him but ended up losing badly because they had no skill.

"As Tezuka would say," Fuji said lightly, "Don't let your guard down, Ryo-chan."

"Of course not," Ryoma replied smoothly. He observed the strings of his racket, before looking up. "Maybe they have a good serve."

They, in fact, did not have a good serve. It was rather ordinary, slightly fast, but nothing Ryoma couldn't handle. Soon, the game count rose to two, and then to three. Ryoma felt like he was on fire, and he loved the way he didn't even have to second guess if it was Fuji's ball or if it was his. Unlike when he played with Momoshiro, he and Fuji were in sync. It was like they'd known each other for years and knew exactly how to play with each other.

"Mine!" Ryoma said as he darted to drop volley one of the shots. The other guy, with big muscles and piercings leaped forward to try to return it, but inevitably failed.

"Seigaku 4-0!"

The crowd cheered. Already, most people were favouring them.

"Change Court."

Fuji caught up to Ryoma and smiled softly, ruffling his green-black strands. Ryoma flushed and pretended to be annoyed. "Stop it, Fuji-senpai," he complained, and pulled away. He could feel his heart thudding inside his chest as he walked towards the service box. Today was probably the best day in his entire life. He felt like he and Fuji were _one_– thoughts alike, hearts connected.

It was a very nice feeling.

Head in the clouds, Ryoma walked straight into a wall. Or, he thought it was a wall. One glance up and he realized it was the toned brick-like chest of the ugly yellow-haired opponent. Ryoma had caught his name during the match; Hamish or something like that. "Sorry," Ryoma muttered, trying to move aside.

Instead, Hamish clamped a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back slightly. "Watch where you're going," he said darkly.

Ryoma glanced up and his eyes narrowed. "Whatever."

"And maybe you should watch where you're going too," Fuji said from behind Ryoma. The blue eyes bore into Hamish's with such intensity that he was forced to look away. Grumbling under his breath, he let go of Ryoma's shoulder and stalked off.

Ryoma scowled at his back. "Some people."

"My thoughts exactly," Fuji patted his head. "Let's finish this."

XXX

"So, we're in the quarter finals?" Ryoma asked, pressing a towel onto his wet hair. They were back in the hotel room after successfully winning the match 6-0, and were preparing for their second match later in the evening. Ryoma thought it was pretty stupid to arrange two matches in a day, but he supposed it was worth it. After all, they got a day off tomorrow.

Fuji didn't reply, leaning on the headboard of the bed and observing his camera. He tilted it slightly. "I think my camera broke."

Ryoma rolled his eyes. "Can I see the pictures?"

"No." The reply was instant.

Ryoma wondered why Fuji was such a private person. He had to be the most secretive member of the Seigaku team he knew, or maybe in his whole life. There was something about the prodigy that gave off a mysterious aura, and Ryoma couldn't quite pinpoint exactly what gave this aura off. Perhaps it had something to do with Fuji's soft voice and sharp eyes? He wasn't really sure.

Fuji fiddled with the camera.

Ryoma sat down on the edge of the bed. "Fuji-senpai, this is _boring,_ can't we do something? Let's have a match."

"We have a match this evening too," Fuji said under his breath, peering into his camera. "Don't want to overexert yourself."

"Please Fuji-senpai, you're starting to sound like buchou. Just one match, no tie breaks."

Fuji didn't say anything, and Ryoma made a sound of discontentment. He pulled his knees up to his chest and stared blankly at the white-painted walls. There was still an hour until they had to leave for the quarter finals match, and he had absolutely nothing to do. He always thought Fuji was the most thrilling person in the world, but at the moment, he was being very boring. _Hmph, his camera is more precious to him than me,_Ryoma scowled, then cursed silently. _Great, I'm getting jealous of a camera now._

Fuji finally put the camera aside. He looked at Ryoma somewhat contemplatively, before digging into his suitcase and pulling out a dark blue photo album. "Would you like to see some of the pictures I've taken in here?" he asked, gently running his fingers across the cover of the album. Ryoma could tell Fuji took his photography seriously.

"Sure," Ryoma hopped off the bed and strode to the other side. He crawled into the space beside Fuji. He inhaled sharply when Fuji shifted closer to him, forcing their legs to brush. Fuji opened to the first page.

Ryoma's breath cut short. "That's…me."

The picture was of himself on the tennis court, high up in the air, about to smash the ball. Behind him, sunlight poured around like a halo of light. He looked amazing, like he was flying, the tennis racket held out beneath him. Ryoma blinked at the picture. "When did you take this?"

"Against your match against Atobe during the training camp. You showed so much potential," Fuji said quietly. He flipped to the next page, this one of Tezuka. It was beautiful as well, and the next one, of Kikumaru and Oishi playing doubles, was just as amazing. However, Ryoma found that none of the pictures matched the first one of himself. He wasn't trying to be arrogant, but his own picture had captured a shine none of the other pictures had.

"You take pictures of us?" Ryoma finally asked, and smirked. "That's creepy, Fuji-senpai."

Fuji frowned and shut his photo album. "Is it really?"

Ryoma quickly backtracked. "No, they were nice."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Fuji sighed and closed his eyes, the smile constrained but still visible. "I might go into photography when I get older."

Ryoma jerked his head up. "What about tennis? Aren't you gunna go pro?"

Fuji chuckled as Ryoma fired off the questions. "I'm not sure. I love tennis, but I can't see myself using it as a career. Saa…things change when people get older, you know. Even you, whose whole life surrounds tennis, could end up being an accountant or something."

"Iya da!" Ryoma exclaimed, horrified.

Fuji just smiled sunnily. "You never know what's written in our destiny."

"I'm going pro," Ryoma insisted. Then, he realized that Fuji had said _our_destiny. As in, _our._Him and Fuji. Together. Their destiny. Ryoma liked the sound of that, but he wondered if that was just the slip of the word for Fuji. Then again, Fuji did not slip up words. He normally meant exactly what he said, or so much more than he said.

"What do you mean by 'our' destiny?" Ryoma asked bravely; anxiously.

Fuji's perfect smile didn't waver. "Nothing at all."

_Huh_-? Ryoma's lips bent into a frown, but Fuji was already tucking his camera in his suitcase and standing up. The younger male watched as the older walked smoothly towards the hotel window, the sunlight filtering in and surrounding him with a faint glow. Fuji's honey-brown hair and lithe figure looked angelic against the bright gold.

Ryoma slipped off the bed and padded over to stand behind him. "Fuji-senpai-"

Fuji tilted his head slightly. "I meant nothing by that, Ryo-chan. You're looking too deep into things."

Hurt crept up his throat, and Ryoma cursed at himself for once again overthinking. Hearing Fuji say it out loud made it all the worse. "I was just asking," the boy scoffed and turned around, hoping Fuji hadn't seen the flicker of sadness in his gold eyes. He dragged himself back towards the bed, wishing with everything he had that this crush on Fuji would pass into nothingness.

XXX – QUARTER FINALS

"Not bad, Fuji-senpai," Ryoma handed a water bottle and towel to the tired prodigy. The first match of the quarter finals had coincidentally been Seigaku from Japan against Belfort Middle School from Korea. His opponent had been quite strong, but Fuji was one level higher. The prodigy had been forced to use one of his triple counters, but ended up winning the match 6-4.

"Thank you," Fuji accepted the water bottle and took a long swig. He narrowed his eyes towards Ryoma's next opponent, who went by the name Bae. "Be careful, they aren't bad. Especially that Bae guy – I called Inui about him yesterday and apparently he's been suspended due to violence quite a few times."

"Violence?" Ryoma blinked innocently, in the middle of stretching his arms over his head.

"Yes," Fuji's serious tone immediately changed to teasing. "Wouldn't want my Ryo-chan to get hurt."

Ryoma just smirked, but inwardly, his throat went dry. _My? My Ryo-chan? I'm__**his?**__I mean, I don't mind, but was he just kidding around? Well, of course he was, but My? HIS?_Shaking his head brusquely, Ryoma grabbed his racket and gave Fuji a look. "Don't worry, senpai," he said coolly, brushing past the prodigy. "I'll finish this quickly."

"Just be careful,"

Ryoma nodded and went to take his position by the serving line.

He observed Bae from under his hat, and frowned slightly. The guy was definitely bigger and taller than him, with drab hair and sharp silver eyes. Something about his expression made Ryoma want to shudder, but he shrugged it off and gripped his racket tighter. If Fuji was right and Bae was violent, then he would have to be careful.

"Wait," Bae stretched his racket out in front of him. "Exactly why am I playing some elementary school kid? I think he's in the wrong league!"

Ryoma's eyes burned, and the grip on his racket tightened. However, his face remained calm. "Hey, can you serve already?"

His opponent held his racket behind his head, one hand in his pocket and the other holding the tennis ball. His fingers clenched around the tennis ball. "Jesus, I wanted a match! This 'aint all fun and games, I'm not going to go easy on you."

Ryoma smirked. "I don't want you to."

Bae growled slightly at the infuriating look Ryoma had flashed. In less than a split second, he threw the ball in the air and served. The yellow sphere whizzed just above the net and landed pinpoint on the corner of the service box. Before coming to Seigaku, Ryoma would have been impressed. After seeing people like Tezuka and Fuji play, he inwardly snorted and quickly returned the ball just as fast.

Bae seemed surprised at the return, which earned him a miss and a point for Ryoma.

"15-0!"

After the first point, the rest of the match just got easier and easier for Ryoma. It wasn't that Bae was a horrible player – he was much better than the people Ryoma had faced during the preliminaries. But Bae kept underestimating him, and Ryoma was levels higher with more skill and determination. Every time Ryoma got a point, Bae would scoff and say 'lucky', but Ryoma could see Bae's eyes getting angrier and angrier. _Geez, he looks like a monster,_Ryoma thought as he returned yet another ball.

Silver eyes pierced into his. "_Fuck,_" Bae said loud and clear when his return landed on the outside of the court.

Ryoma smirked. "Language," he waved his racket tauntingly.

Perhaps that hadn't been such a bright idea. Bae's face went an angry red, and he growled, "That's it, brat." Before Ryoma could comprehend what was happening, Bae was throwing a stray tennis ball up in the air and bending forward to serve. Ryoma started to step back, his gold eyes flashing anxiously, "Wait, you're way too close to the net to be serving-" he couldn't finish his thoughts as the ball whizzed directly towards his face.

Ryoma knew he should try to dodge it, but his body was frozen. The ball hit his eye and unbelievable pain seared through.

"Ryoma!" he heard Fuji yell, but the blood dripping down his face made him drop to a knee and press a hand over his eye. The court ground went blurry, and all he could think about was the stark pain in his left eye and the feel of blood streaming down his cheek. Somewhere along the shouting of the crowd and the ringing in his ears, he heard Fuji's voice, soft and elegant among the masses.

XXX

"Ouch," Ryoma shifted uncomfortably on the bed as Fuji's gentle hand caressed his cheek. A bloody cotton ball was in his other, and he carefully dabbed it against the swollen eye. The close proximity was sending Ryoma's heart throbbing with desire, and he fought to keep the blush off his face. _I already told Fuji-senpai I can handle myself, yet here he is, insisting that he help me…_

After Ryoma's injury, the match had ended and Fuji and Ryoma had headed to the hotel to fix up Ryoma's eye.

"It's bleeding profusely, almost like that time when you faced Shinji," Fuji said softly, tossing in the cotton ball into the trash and replacing it with a new one.

Ryoma winced as Fuji applied pressure, and his fingers tightened around the bed blankets. It was hard to think back to the game against Shinji – it had been his first match after joining the regulars, and he remembered feeling a bit of anxiety along with his normal confidence. He liked Seigaku, especially the captain, and he wanted to make them proud.

After the match, and the following matches that had come, Ryoma had found friendship in his senpai-tachi. It was now so normal to get headlocks from Momoshiro and be crushed by Kikumaru. It was normal to run a million laps and drink juice that made you pass out. He remembered how different he had felt when he first joined the club, but how it felt so comfortable now, almost like family.

But over the months, one person continued to remain a mystery.

"I will kill Bae," Fuji said with a tight smile on his face.

Ryoma rolled his eyes, and ducked his head. "Fuji-senpai, you seriously need to calm down. I've faced these kinds of guys before. It's no big deal." _At least we're not out of the tournament. Unlike in our middle school games, Bae was disqualified for serving so close to the net. Automatic win._

Fuji sighed slightly, pulling back from Ryoma for a moment. His blue eyes held a mixture of anger and desperation – everything about the smoldering orbs said 'I need to take revenge for my Ryo-chan'. Even Ryoma, who always had trouble understanding the prodigy, could understand that much. He assumed it was like that time Fuji had gotten furious over Kirihara because he hurt Fudomine's Tachibana.

_But Fuji's eyes look angrier this time._

Fuji's gaze flitted to Ryoma's. "Am I worrying you?" he chuckled briefly, lowering his hand from Ryoma's cheek. "Don't worry; I'm not actually going to go kill Bae."

"I'm not worried," Ryoma defended. He swatted at Fuji's reaching hand. "My eye's fine."

"It's still bleeding," Fuji said daintily, fingers once again cupping Ryoma's cheek, the other hand resuming to attempt to stop the bleeding. While Ryoma was in heaven at Fuji's touch, he felt very uncomfortable too, especially because Fuji's face was so close to his face. He had this odd desire to lean out and kiss him, and the desire was growing every passing second. _Think of an excuse to get out, think, think…_"Uh, Fuji-senpai?" he said, face hot.

"Yes?"

"I need the bathroom."

_Perfect! He can't deny that!_

"It's still bleeding," Fuji whispered, finally giving up on the cotton balls. He reached into his suitcase and pulled out a small cloth. Without a second thought, he started pressing the cloth against Ryoma's eye instead. Ryoma waited for him to say 'okay, go to the bathroom' but apparently Fuji didn't understand human bodily functions. Ryoma didn't have to go either way, but he wanted to desperately get out of Fuji's closeness before he did something he regretted.

"Fuji-senpai?" Ryoma said, and his voice was tight with nerves. "Uh, let's just leave it now. I'm sure it'll stop on its own."

Blue eyes locked with gold. "No."

That was that. Ryoma crossed his arms and pouted slightly, hoping it worked since it normally did, but Fuji was invincible. He just smiled calmly and continuously dabbed the cloth against his eye. Ryoma tried to distract himself by looking around the room, but the hotel was familiar to him now so there was nothing new to notice. Every time his mind drifted, he found his eyes brushing back to Fuji's lips.

His heart pounded even harder.

"Fuji-senpai?" Ryoma said quietly.

Fuji's breath tingled against his neck. "Shhh," he said, taking a strand of Ryoma's green-black hair and pushing it out of his eyes. For a moment, they both just stared at each other, Fuji's eyes changing from anger to lust, Ryoma's changing from anxious to stunned. The proximity between them was heated, and the cloth carelessly dropped to the ground from between Fuji's fingers.

His hand trailed up Ryoma's face, almost outlining his features in awe.

Ryoma's heart banged. "Fuji-senpai?"

Fuji threaded his fingers through Ryoma's hair, while the other hand cradled his flushed cheek. Ryoma could feel the connection between them grow stronger; a spark seemed to burst, and Fuji's blue eyes shut close. "Ryo-chan," he murmured, tilting his head and leaning forward. Ryoma stilled, every muscle in his body tense.

_Oh. My. What. The. Hell. Tennis._

Before he could process what was happening, Ryoma shut his own eyes and leaned forward too, lips inches apart from touching.


	5. Disappointment

**Loaded Soul Part 5/10**

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**A/N: **Yay, we're halfway there! Actually…nooo. Because this story is a hot mess of bad writing habits. It's awful. I only have chapter ten to write before I'm done this story….and it's not very good. There's still time for you to go back now and run for it…or, you can painfully slog through five more chapters. Your choice! xD

* * *

Fuji pulled away before their lips could touch. "I'm sorry. I don't know what…" he hesitated, his eyes filled with desire. He stood up, removing his hands from Ryoma's face and taking a step backwards. Ryoma glanced up, touching his lips that were so close to being kissed. He could feel his face getting hotter and hotter in embarrassment – had he really thought Fuji was going to kiss him?

"You need the bathroom, right?" Fuji said quietly, regretfully.

Ryoma sat there for a moment, not caring about the pain in his bleeding eye. He felt stupid. The burning spark disappeared, leaving simply a lonely ache. They had been _so_close – with _such_a connection – he could see Fuji's eyes locking into his as they became one. Fuji was the one who had initiated it, leaning forward in such a manner, and Ryoma had only reciprocated. _So then why do__**I **__feel like the one who's stupid?_

"Look, I'm sorry," Fuji said softly. "I didn't mean to startle you. I don't know what came over me."

Ryoma just stared at Fuji, the excitement draining from his body. _Of course he didn't mean to. It was probably one of those lust moments where you think someone's attractive and you want to kiss them, but it doesn't really mean anything. I mean, I'm good-looking, right? Which is probably why Fuji started to kiss me, but it's not like he liked me or anything…he just said so himself, he doesn't know what came over him…_

Ryoma forced himself to his feet, gold eyes confused and hurt. "Whatever, Fuji-senpai," the boy said, voice tight, insides trembling. He didn't look behind him as he rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Once inside, he snuck a glance at the mirror.

There he was – face flushed red, gold eyes sparkling, hair askew, eye bleeding. _I'm a mess._"And Fuji-senpai wanted to kiss _this_?" Ryoma thought outloud, slumping against the bathroom wall. He didn't really care about his appearance. He was confident that he was fairly good-looking, and he never was self-conscious about how he looked, but this was different.

He looked _uneasy._Ryoma was supposed to look calm and collected. That was who he _was._

"Stupid jerk," Ryoma said quietly. He turned on the tap for the sake of pretending he was washing his hands. If he closed his eyes for a moment, and tried to think back, he could catch a glimpse of his old self who only cared about tennis, sleep, and his precious cat. Since when had Fuji come into the picture? It had happened so suddenly, and Ryoma felt unprepared.

_Can't he just go away? Or- no, can't I just get over him? He's not__**that**__amazing. Buchou is a better tennis player. Momoshiro is friendlier. Inui is smarter. There are lots of people I could like besides Fuji – falling in love with Fuji is like instant heartbreak. There's never a chance._

Ryoma wished he had fallen in love with Eiji Kikumaru instead. Lovely, happy, overjoyed Kikumaru who loved to hug him and call him 'Ochibi'. _He would never hurt me, even if he didn't like me back, he would be so nice about it. Why does Fuji-senpai have to make things so complicated? Why can't he just say 'I like you too, Echizen', kiss me, and then we can live happily ever after discussing tennis and photography._

"Um, Echizen?"

There was a timid knock on the door.

"Yeah?" Ryoma called out, lower lip quivering. He straightened up and patted his hair down, wiping the blood underneath his eye.

There was a pause on the other side of the door. "Nevermind. Nothing."

Ryoma listened as Fuji's footsteps echoed away. His head pounded and his heart hurt.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

XXX

Sleep came easily – Ryoma was once again exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Tennis didn't usually leave him drained, but two matches, along with an aching eye and Fuji-drama would leave anyone tired. His muscles were grateful as he sunk onto his side of the bed, head landing on the soft pillow.

Fuji got into the bed too, but unlike last time, he did not slip his arm around Ryoma's waist, pull him close, and wish him goodnight. Instead, he stayed on the opposite edge, back facing the other way, scent distanced.

_It's a game,_Ryoma thought with a drowsy mind, sleep taking over his mind, _All a fucking game._

XXX

Breakfast was a painful process. They were once again settled in the Breakfast Café of the hotel, seated across from each other in a small table by the window. Ryoma had an eye patch to protect his eye from infection, and his head stayed ducked down on the table.

Fuji, across from him, appeared calm.

_Speak to me,_Ryoma thought, fist clenching under the table. He watched as Fuji took a delicate sip of his coffee, head tilted towards the window, following the arch of the sunlight. If Ryoma was to think hard and come up with one word to describe Fuji, he always came up with _angel._There was something about the prodigy that was so soft and beautiful only angel could describe it.

_But his personality is anything but that._

In truth, Ryoma thought his personality was more like a devil than anything.

"The semi-finals are today," Ryoma finally said blankly, taking a long gulp of his milk. He was determined to pretend yesterday never happened, just as Fuji was. They hadn't done anything spectacular, but Ryoma remembered the feeling of _having_something. All throughout the day, he had felt a connection with Fuji, stronger than any connection he had ever felt before.

But…_poof_, the connection had disappeared today.

"Yeah," Fuji said, not quite looking at him.

"They're at night, this time," Ryoma mumbled, just to try to ease the awkwardness. Fuji already knew the semi-finals were going to be held under a lit up tennis stadium at around 8:00 at night, but that didn't matter. Ryoma felt like he needed to talk. He remembered Inui-senpai had stated that he liked to talk more when he felt bothered.

Ryoma's frown deepened.

Fuji was now texting, with a smile on his face.

"Who're you texting?" Ryoma asked curiously.

Fuji snapped his phone shut, and the smile tightened for a moment. Then, it relaxed. "Alec."

"Alec- from the preliminaries'?" Ryoma thought, and a scowl instantly formed on his face. "I didn't know you were close."

"We weren't," Fuji said, placing his phone down on the table. "But we had a connection during the match, so we decided to exchange phone numbers. He's really quite fun to text."

Ryoma's mouth parted slightly, gold eyes wide with disbelief. He couldn't believe it. Fuji had felt a connection with _Alec_ of all people, while Ryoma had thought they had had something this whole time. He swallowed hard, staring down at the ground and trying to control his expression. He wanted to no-doubt punch Alec in the face, but that wouldn't make a difference.

Fuji would still never like him, and Ryoma yearned for the reciprocation so badly.

"I'm done," Ryoma said, quickly standing up and dumping his milk carton in the trash. He shrugged on his Seigaku jacket and strode towards the door, not waiting to see if Fuji was following. After a few steps down the sidewalk, he finally glanced over his shoulder. Fuji was not walking behind him._Of course he isn't. He would never follow__**me**__anywhere, even though I follow him all the time._

To make things worse, the semifinals were another doubles round. With both of them awkward with each other, they probably wouldn't end up in sync during play.

Ryoma sighed to himself and turned a corner, the sunlight reflecting off his cheek and his tan skin aglow. He would make it work, somehow.

XXX

Ryoma watched as Fuji Syusuke bent down to touch his toes. It really gave him a good view of the older boy's tight ass, not to mention his smooth legs. His shirt would ride up too, showing off a toned back. Ryoma closed his eyes. _Great, I'm a pervert now. This day just keeps getting better and better. _They were once again waiting by the bench in the stadium, about to start the semifinals.

Ryoma knew the semifinals wouldn't be a breeze, but he couldn't get himself to focus. He was supposed to play doubles with Fuji, and that already ultimately said they would lose. Fuji wouldn't speak to him, and much to Ryoma's chagrin, he kept waving at Alec across the stadium. Alec had already long since been out of the competition.

_Ch', guess Fuji-senpai likes__**weak**__tennis players. I should totally just kiss buchou to make him jealous. Buchou would probably kick me off the team though, and Fuji probably would just smile and be perfectly fine with it. Ugh, I'm rambling in my mind. I think I'm turning into Shinji._

Ryoma gave his head a brusque shake. He needed to clear his thoughts.

"The next match will be Seigaku from Japan against Mount Lustre from Spain! Players, please enter the courts!"

Fuji stood up from the bench, racket at his side. "Ready, Ryoma?" he spoke under his breath. Ryoma had his own racket in a death grip, pink lip bit with his teeth as he tried to control the anger boiling in his mind. "Of course I'm ready," he said just as quietly back. "If anyone's going to make us lose, it's you."

Blue eyes shot over to him. "Ryoma-"

"It wouldn't be me," Ryoma snapped, and started to quickly walk towards the courts. _He thinks he's so much better than everyone, just because he hides all his real emotions and stuff. That doesn't make him cool, that makes him – it makes him –_Ryoma's shoulders dragged slightly, and the grip on his racket loosened. _It makes him Fuji Syusuke._

The match began with the other team leading 1-0.

"Mine!" Ryoma yelled as he darted forward to hit a drop volley. At the same time, Fuji's racket clattered with his own, and the ball dribbled to the ground.

"30-0!"

"That was _mine_," Ryoma stated grumpily, storming away from Fuji. Fuji didn't say anything, only shot him a dark look with his eyes, before squaring his back and heading towards the opposite direction. When Ryoma was just nearly out of earshot, but not quite, he said quietly, "It was _mine_," and didn't look towards the boy again.

Ryoma could feel the anger coursing through his veins, and he gritted his teeth. _It wasn't his, it was mine. He thinks he knows everything. Why the hell am I in love with him again?_

The next ball once again landed in between both Fuji and Ryoma, and unlike the first doubles match, they did not have perfect sync. The ball bounced towards the fence, and the announcer called another point for the opposing team. _Great, we'll lose at the semifinals,_Ryoma thought, slightly distraught, the other part of him thoroughly pissed.

The game continued at a similar pace, with their sync dropping into dilemma. The other team lead the score by 3-0, and Ryoma had despondently given up winning the game. If it was a singles match, he wouldn't have lost an ounce of hope, but doubles was pointless. Especially when his partner was Fuji Syusuke, the holy lord of jerks.

"That was mine again," Ryoma claimed, dragging his racket against the ground. Fuji inhaled sharply, and shot him a look. He had yet to give into Ryoma's accusations, but Ryoma was waiting patiently for Fuji to lose his temper. For _once,_ he wanted to see the prodigy out of control, not the other way around.

"Switch court!"

Exactly on the cue, Ryoma quickly walked towards the other side, not wanting to be stuck with Fuji. However, in less than a split-second, Fuji had caught up to him with long strides.

"Cooperate," the prodigy said quietly, in an almost conflicted tone.

Ryoma swung his racket over his shoulder. "No," he said firmly. "_You_cooperate."

Fuji turned his back and silently walked to the other side to serve. Ryoma scowled to himself, sick of Fuji's perfect body, and perfect hair, and all so perfect calm-personality. He just wanted to see the prodigy explode for once – to finally be out of control and lose it. It never seemed to happen, and Ryoma craved it. But perhaps it was just a part of him that craved it – another part, the deeper, more sincere part, thought it would be scary to see Fuji act anything like himself.

Bending his knees, Ryoma tried to focus on the game, vaguely wondering why none of the balls were shooting towards him. He grasped his racket when the yellow sphere rallied to his side, and ran forward to swing it. A blur of Fuji whizzed past him, and the ball was returned without Ryoma even touching it.

"Hey," Ryoma said, annoyed. He pulled the brim of his cap down to shadow his irritation.

Fuji didn't reply, and got into return stance.

As the game continued into the second-half, Ryoma found himself returning less and less balls. Fuji came in the way every time, and at one point, the twelve-year old realize he hadn't returned a single shot since the previous court switch. _Hmph,_he thought. This time, when the ball flung over the net, he sprinted forward to return it.

Except Fuji blocked his way, and hit it back instead. They scored a point.

"Game Seigaku 3-3"

_We're tied now? Since when?_

"Their fucking lucky they've got that pretty boy on their team," one of the opponents's muttered to his partner. "We would have killed them otherwise. Look, that guy's not even doing anything."

Ryoma blinked, and his fists clenched around the racket. He felt like he'd been drenched in ice cold water. He wasn't playing. Fuji wasn't letting him play. Fuji had taken over the game.

Fuji thought he was better than him.

Ryoma stood there as Fuji returned shot after shot, earning them point after point, but nothing but hurt filled the pit of his stomach. It wasn't fair. They were supposed to be playing doubles. And even as Ryoma's mind begged for revenge, to go out there and start getting the balls before Fuji could, his legs stayed frozen. He found the racket slipping from his grip.

It was almost like hopelessness had taken over his mind and spirit.

When they won the game, Fuji was panting with exhaustion, but the pretty-perfect smile stayed plastered on his face. Ryoma blinked, getting out of his long shock, and forced his legs to the net to shake hands. After that, they grabbed their towels and started to pack up. Ryoma swigged his water under the bright lights, the night sky aglow against the stadium.

Out of his peripheral vision, he could see Fuji chatting amiably to Alec.

_It hurts,_Ryoma realized with more vigor than usual. He slung his bag over his shoulder and started to walk away. _It hurts so badly._

XXX

Since he'd completely ditched Fuji, Ryoma arrived to the hotel earlier than usual. He feigned losing his key card and got the hotel secretary to get him a new one. The privacy of the room was nice, and for once, Ryoma just stripped down without having to look over his shoulder. After taking a shower, he pulled on his pajamas and quickly cuddled into the bed.

His plan was to pretend to fall asleep before Fuji even got there. He knew he'd be awake until then, just to be sure that Fuji got home safely.

_I hate that. I hate that part of me that cares when it shouldn't._Ryoma buried his face in the covers, kicking his legs out. The moonlight poured in through the window, reflecting off his tanned skin. He rolled over and stared at the window. All he could think about was Fuji's face, hurtful, deceitful, and always playing with his mind.

He hated it. He fucking hated it.

Ryoma curled up against the pillow. His eyes started to burn, and panic flickered in his chest. The burning got harder and harder to resist, and water started to boil under his lashes. _No, no, no, you can't succumb to it…_he curled himself tighter, and held his fists to his eyes to hold back the tears. Fuji's face thundered in his mind like a never-ending, perpetual picture of misery.

The first tear slipped down his cheek, and the wetness jolted Ryoma. He hadn't cried in so long.

After the first one, the dam broke, and Ryoma could do nothing as tears pooled in his eyes and spilled over his face like a waterfall. He pressed his face against his pillow, hair tousled against the white fabric. In the loneliness of the dark hotel room, a small, choked sound escaped his mouth. And then another, and another, until he was finally sobbing. His small body shook under the blankets.

He didn't know how hard he was crying, or how long he cried, because Fuji had ripped his mentality into pieces.


	6. Complex Decisions

**Loaded Soul ****6/10**

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**Author's Notes:** This chapter is _alright _(It's still really, really bad though) but what I'm really dreading is the next chapter. It's like…the worst chapter in the world. I hate it, but I'm too lazy to go change it now. Enjoy!

* * *

When Ryoma woke up that morning, his head pounded, and his eyes felt dry from crying himself to sleep. For a moment, he groaned at the thought of tennis, then realized they had a one-day break before the finals. Relief swept through him. It was quickly replaced with panic. A day with Fuji, with nothing but themselves to do whatever they pleased.

_I don't care. I don't care._ Ryoma pushed himself off the bed, ignoring the lump next to him, and dragged himself to get washed up. Once he had changed into shorts and a sweater, he appeared back out to see Fuji sitting up on the edge of the bed. The boy paused, and he stared at Fuji for a moment.

The prodigy looked different. Ryoma couldn't quite pinpoint what about him looked different – the hair was still the same, the eyes were still closed, and the smile was still… – wait. Ryoma inspected closer, and his mouth pursed. The smile didn't look as deceiving as it usually did. _Maybe he's always like that in the morning. Or maybe he's trying to make me into a wreck again._

"Good morning," Fuji said brightly.

Ryoma tensed. There it was again – the extravagant mood changes. One day he was ignored, the other he was greeted like the most important person the world. "Morning," the boy said. At least his heart hadn't exploded. He could barely remember the time at the plane ride, where he had been a bundle of nerves just by being in Fuji's presence.

At this point, anxiety would have felt heavenly compared to Fuji's agonizing split-personalities

"The breakfast café again?"

Ryoma nodded a bit, and turned his gaze towards the window. "Okay."

Fuji sat up from his position by the bed, and swiped at a strand of honey-brown hair. He walked past Ryoma in his sweatpants and t-shirt. "I'll go change then," his voice was remarkably calm. He smiled softly at the twelve-year old, and Ryoma drew back protectively. "Whatever," he ducked his head and walked towards the door. "I'll be downstairs."

He could feel Fuji staring at his back, but forced himself to walk straight out the door without looking behind him.

XXX

Ryoma ate quickly, finishing off his bagel just as Fuji appeared at the café. The prodigy frowned, and instead of eating a proper breakfast, he ordered a coffee-to-go. Ryoma watched as Fuji smiled at him again – kindly, innocently. It reminded him of the kid-Fuji pictures he had seen before.

"Let's go," Fuji said quietly, and his elbow brushed Ryoma's arm as he headed out the café door.

An electric current shot up Ryoma's arm. "Okay," he said hoarsely, and his footsteps followed Fuji's accordingly. The Fuji-symptoms were coming back again, stronger than ever. The shivers in his body, his gut twisting like a spindle – they had returned. Ryoma hurriedly chased after Fuji's long strides.

The weather outside was cool and wet. Ryoma snuggled in his Seigaku jacket.

Fuji slowed down his pace so Ryoma could join him, and their footsteps merged against the pavement. Ryoma secretly watched Fuji sip on his coffee, still entranced by the man that had tugged at his heartstrings for the first time ever. There was something so magnificent about the boy that no matter how long he spent with him, the awe never dispersed.

Still in his thoughts, Ryoma barely realized that Fuji had his eyes locked on him. He bit his lip, and forced a breath out.

"Fuji-senpai, why are you staring at me?"

Fuji tilted his head, and the smile widened. "Let's spend the day separately today."

Ryoma felt his heart drop. Despite everything, there was still a small part of him – a tiny, miniscule part – that hoped that Fuji liked him back. But of course not. He didn't even want to spend their day off together. He probably wanted to hang out with Alec or something. Ryoma pretended to look unaffected, and settled his gaze casually in the distance.

"Sure," he said. "I'll play tennis."

"Okay," Fuji said. "And then tonight, we can meet up at the new Pasta place down the street. How does six o-clock sound?"

Ryoma paused, and his eyes flickered towards Fuji's. "The pasta place?" he asked, confused. "Why?"

"To eat," Fuji chuckled. "How about it?"

Too friendly. Too nice. There's something coming. Keep your guard up – the thoughts jumbled in Ryoma's mind, and his eyebrows knit together. Suddenly, he didn't want to talk to Fuji anymore – it was just too much. All the mood swings and emotions bore down him. Ryoma wished he could get as far away from Fuji's sweet smile as possible. If it wasn't for the tournament, he would have already fled.

"So?" Fuji asked.

Ryoma's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine."

Fuji looked extremely pleased, and clasped his hands in front of him. Electric blue eyes shot open.

"Great. It's a date."

Ryoma froze. His blood ran cold. Wait…date? A date. He didn't mean an actual…date-date, right? The words echoed in his mind like two symbols crashing. His heart banged against his chest. He could only stand there, toes curling in his shoes, eyes wide and mouth agape as Fuji Syusuke turned the corner and disappeared out of sight.

So apparantly he was going on a date.

XXX

Instead of playing tennis, or finding a hill to nap on, Ryoma went straight back into the hotel room. He was still having a tough time comprehending what had happened – a date? Surely, Fuji had been kidding. He didn't mean it. _Surely_. Ryoma huffed, fed up with himself for overthinking. Even if it was a date, it wasn't a big deal.

He chewed on his lower lip. But if it was a date, he didn't want to show up in shorts and his Seigaku jacket. _But if I dress up and it isn't exactly a date, which is probably isn't, Fuji will think I'm stupid and trying to impress him._

Giving up, Ryoma decided changing clothes was a bad idea. It wasn't a date, anyway. It couldn't be. Fuji didn't like him. That was that.

The oddest part about the earlier morning was that Fuji had acted so different – kind and gentle. Ryoma hadn't seen a hint of deceit, and it was unlike Fuji to smile so genuinely. Ryoma wasn't comfortable with the new attitude. It made his hopes flutter up again, even though a part of him knew Fuji was playing a big game.

_He made you cry._

Ryoma's expression hardened. The night before had triggered something. Even if Fuji did like him, Ryoma deserved someone better. Someone who cared about him and didn't mess with his brain. Someone who didn't change their attitude every single day. Someone who actually appreciated him.

_So that's final,_ Ryoma thought, and a strange sense of ease washed over him._ I won't let Fuji do this to me any longer._

XXX

When he showed up at the pasta place, Fuji was already outside waiting for him. Ryoma forced himself to walk steadily, face mirroring nothing but boredom. He kept his eyes away from Fuji's nice dress-shirt and belted black pants. Apparently Fuji had been serious about the date idea, but Ryoma knew it was nothing more than a joke. A silly game.

_A game I'm not going to be a part of anymore._

"Ryo-chan," Fuji said cheerfully.

"Ah," Ryoma uttered in acknowledgment.

Fuji's ethereal smile didn't waver, and he held open the door for him. There was still something different about the prodigy – the blue eyes flickered with a sense of security; reliability. Ryoma snorted at his own thoughts – Fuji was probably the most unreliable person in the entire world. He was the kind of person that would promise to stay with you and then take off halfway around the world the next day. _But Fuji-senpai isn't a bad person,_ Ryoma thought quizzically to himself. _He cares about his friends. So why is he so set on hurting me like this?_

"Ryoma?" Fuji questioned kind of quietly.

Ryoma realized he had stopped in his tracks. The boy shook his head brusquely. Today's plan was to forget about Fuji and become himself again. "Coming," he said carelessly, and still didn't bother looking up. The corners of Fuji's lips tightened slightly, but the smile didn't cease. They found themselves a table for two by the window, and Ryoma noted that it almost looked isolated from the rest of the restaurant.

The menus arrived moments later. "Buy as much as you'd like," Fuji said. "It's on me."

"You don't have to." Ryoma muttered in response.

Fuji beamed. "But I want to."

Ryoma flipped through the menu, feeling a little out of place with his shorts and t-shirt. He shrugged to himself. It didn't matter. It wasn't like he needed to impress anyone. _You keep telling yourself that_, the devil of Ryoma's mind snickered. Across from him, Fuji's attention didn't seem to be on the menu. His eyes kept flickering to Ryoma every few seconds.

"What?" Ryoma snapped after a moment.

Fuji looked slightly startled at the sharp tone. His smile softened. "Nothing. Have you decided what you'd like?"

"There's nothing but pasta."

To Ryoma's surprise, Fuji just chuckled and nodded in agreement. The boy inspected him curiously. _Fuji's being too nice today. There has to be a reason behind it. Is he trying to get me to lower my guard so he can unexpectedly be cold again? Maybe he figured out my grand plan of forgetting about him so he's trying to reel me back in? Or maybe…maybe… _Ryoma wracked his brain. There just wasn't a proper answer.

"You look like you're thinking hard," Fuji said.

Ryoma glanced up, and his eyebrows knit together. "I-" he stopped himself. "I was just deciding what to eat."

"Ah. Choosing food takes great concentration, doesn't it?"

The gold eyes narrowed. "I can concentrate if I want to."

Fuji laughed lightly, the traces of tease clear on his face. He shifted on the chair, hair falling in perfect strands around the frame of his face. "Of course you can," the prodigy said pleasantly, and Ryoma involuntarily pouted at him. This made Fuji's smile stretch further, and Ryoma inwardly cursed. He wiped the pout off his face.

_Don't make him think that you're enjoying his company! I'm supposed to hate his company! He's supposed to play with my mind and make me upset. I'm not enjoying his company. I will never enjoy his company. This date is not fun. It is bad._ Ryoma repeated this in his mind like a mantra, and his fingers clenched around the fork unconsciously_. Maybe I should throw this fork at his pretty perfect face._

He decided on leaving the fork-throwing for more serious matter.

After a while, their food came, and Ryoma stared hungrily at his bowl of pasta. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until now. Fuji seemed to note his expression, and smiled with amusement. "Do you like pasta?" he asked curiously. Ryoma frowned, and shrugged, trying once again to cold shoulder Fuji like he'd done to him the past few days.

Fuji did not seem perturbed. "It's not my favourite, either."

Ryoma gripped his fork, and dug into the bowl. "Then what is your favourite food?"

A pleased grin. "Secret." He stopped, and tilted his head. "What's yours?"

Ryoma shot him a dark look. "Secret," he retorted.

Fuji's expression didn't change. "Fair enough," he said, and he took the fork delicately between his two nimble fingers. He coiled the pasta around it, took a bite, and chewed carefully. He smiled, kept chewing, then swallowed. "I think it needs some more spice," he said instantly. Ryoma raised an eyebrow. Was it just him or was Fuji talking an awful lot today?

_Maybe he's…_

"What do you think, Ryoma?"

_No way. Is he trying to make conversation with me? I never knew Fuji put effort into social skills._

"It's fine," Ryoma said stiffly. "Not everyone's like you, Fuji-senpai."

Fuji stirred the fork around the pasta. "Perhaps," he said, and a little bit of his Fuji-deceiving-smile came back, the lips quirking. "But I've always praised myself for being different. You like being perceived different too, don't you?"

Ryoma thought about this, for once not overthinking. He answered honestly, "Not really. I don't try. I just act like I think I should, and for some reason, people think it's different," he paused, and his gold eyes wavered with contemplation. "They think I'm too blunt. It's stupid. People are stupid."

"That's an aspect of your personality that's very opposite of mine," Fuji admitted. The smoldering blue eyes bore into Ryoma's eyes. "But you know what they say? Opposites attract."

Ryoma half-choked on his pasta. "Huh?"

Fuji smiled at him. "Nothing, Ryoma. Nothing at all."

The smile was too innocent. For some reason, this whole date, this whole Fuji-friendly thing was getting to Ryoma. It just wasn't like Fuji too be this friendly, with that happy of a smile. It was almost as if Fuji was finally setting free whatever confused feeling he had about Ryoma, but Ryoma knew that wasn't the fact. Fuji never had feelings for him in the first place.

"Why are you being so nice?" Ryoma finally asked quietly.

Fuji's eyes darted away, and for a moment, Ryoma saw a flicker of anxiety. In less than a split second, it disappeared, leaving Ryoma wondering if he had imagined it. He waited patiently for Fuji's answer.

"I have something to tell you," Fuji said after a moment. "After."

_Tell me something?_ Curiosity pulled at Ryoma's mind, and he refrained from sounding too interested and bombarding Fuji with questions. Instead, he just scowled and turned back to his meal. He still didn't understand why having something to tell him meant that Fuji had to be nice. It didn't even answer his question properly.

But then, Fuji never gives a straightforward answer.

"Back to this opposites attract," Ryoma steered the conversation. "What's that mean, anyway? I've never heard of it."

"Of course you haven't," Fuji chuckled. "I'm not surprised."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ryoma instantly defended.

"Nothing," Fuji grinned, lit eyes sparkling under the chandelier light. "Ryo-chan needs to relax a little."

"I'm relaxed," Ryoma answered tensely.

A silence blanketed over them, but it was for once, not an awkward one. Fuji happily ate his pasta, while Ryoma surprisingly did not feel panicky or stressed. Even though Fuji was still a deceiving, mind-boggling jerk, it was nice having a humanely conversation with him. Also, Ryoma was starting to think the I-don't-like-Fuji-anymore plan was working. He didn't feel an ounce of jitters or anxiety.

"Are you planning dessert?" Fuji broke the silent reverie.

"Uh. Okay," Ryoma blinked. He stared at Fuji's nice clothes.

_He looks really cute tonight._

"You look nice," Ryoma said, surprising himself. Immediately, he wanted to cram the words back in his mouth. He stared helplessly at his empty bowl. A blush crawled on his cheeks, and he shifted uncomfortably on the chair. After a second, he chanced a glance at Fuji, and was surprised to see a warm smile on his face.

"Thanks. You look cute too." Fuji said, even though he wasn't wearing anything special. He added, "You always do."

Ryoma's cheeks got impossibly redder. "I'm not cute."

Fuji just nodded at him, and waved over the waiter to order their dessert.

Ryoma was only half-paying attention to the order, still slightly baffled by his own outburst and Fuji's sincere reply. Even though he'd barely checked himself in the mirror before leaving, intent on destroying his crush on Fuji, the older still had the curtsey to call him cute. He wasn't, really – he was nice-looking, he supposed, but nothing amazing.

Not like Fuji. Fuji was beautiful.

"Can we share the cheesecake?" Fuji spoke. "It's really expensive."

Ryoma nodded absentmindedly. Moments later, the dessert arrived, and Fuji started to cut up the cake. Ryoma watched as his slender fingers gripped the knife and sliced out the perfect square piece. He poked his fork in it, and stared admiringly at the cake. "Ryo-chan," the prodigy said kind of quietly, in thought. "Do you mind if I…" he gestured to the piece of cake on his fork. "Feed you this piece?"

Bewilderment crossed Ryoma's face. "I mind," he said quickly, fighting another pulsing blush.

Fuji smiled, and this one looked familiar. "Thanks for agreeing," the prodigy drawled, and he slid over next to Ryoma.

Ryoma blinked. "I didn't agre—oof!"

The cake was promptly stuffed in his mouth. Ryoma let the delicious taste dissolve in his mouth, but his bright eyes glared furiously at Fuji. The latter just grinned, waving his fork in the air, asking calmly if he wanted a second piece. Ryoma just shook his head rapidly, still chewing, heart thumping at the close proximity.

"Too bad," Fuji shrugged, taking a bite of his own. "It tastes rather good."

"I want some," Ryoma said stubbornly. "But I can eat by myself."

Fuji glanced at him, and an amused smile flickered over his face. He pushed the other plate towards him, and Ryoma accepted with a sharp look. As Ryoma ate, Fuji occasionally piping up and making a comment, he realized that he was oddly enjoying himself. Throughout the trip, every time with Fuji had either been heartfelt or heartbreak. Today, though, he just felt content. Happy. Safe.

He told himself not to let his guard down, but Fuji's blue eyes had already sucked him in all over again.

XXX

After they finished the meal and paid, Fuji took Ryoma outside the restaurant. There was a small porch-like fence that reached approximately up to Ryoma's torso, and they stood alongside it. Ryoma leaned against the top of the wood, sipping on his bottle of milk. Fuji had kindly offered to buy him one, making a teasing remark about his lack of growth.

"Fuji-senpai," Ryoma said, staring at the cars rushing by on the street. "The finals are the day after tomorrow."

"They are, aren't they?" Fuji said pretentiously. "I'm a little surprised. This tournament wasn't much of a challenge."

"My eye got hurt," Ryoma pointed out_. But you're right. The tournament wasn't a challenge. My emotions were. You were._

Fuji's eyes glimpsed a hint of anger at the mention of Ryoma's eye, and Ryoma immediately regretted bringing it up. He quickly tried to change the subject. "Oh, weren't you gunna tell me something?" he chewed on the end of his straw. "It was important, right?"

The question was met with silence. Fuji's slender hand curled tightly around the railing. "Oh. That."

"Yeah. That."

The prodigy's eyes flickered with an emotion Ryoma was foreign to seeing – confusion; anxiety. He breathed in sharply, and his gaze turned away from the maroon sky. He looked at Ryoma, studying him hard, and the boy shifted uncomfortably. For a moment, Ryoma thought that the whole thing was a bluff, when suddenly, Fuji straightened up and slid his arms around his waist.

Ryoma froze. His muscles went tight.

"Fuji-senpai?"

"You asked."

The twelve-year old didn't understand. Fuji's hands felt strangely comfortable around his waist.

"You asked," the tennis genius repeated, and his eyes were frighteningly wild. The smooth hands crept up part of his back, and he lurched Ryoma forward towards his chest. Ryoma yelped, and heat colored his face, but Fuji was already closing his eyes and leaning forward. A single hand cupped Ryoma's cheek. "I can't explain it, and I don't think you'll understand either way," the whisper tickled Ryoma's nape. "But I'm going to try to show you."

"I don't- I-" Ryoma struggled to answer.

Fuji's lips collided with his before he could properly finish. Ryoma's mind went blank. His control shut down. He stood there limply as a beautiful mouth pressed against his – and, in that small split second, Ryoma realized exactly what was happening. And how much he hated it. Images flashed in his mind – the on and off mood, the one-day-flirting and the one-day-ignoring. Alec. Fuji, who had played and destroyed his emotions.

It was a little late to pretend Fuji actually liked him.

Ryoma pushed him away. His face flushed. "No."

Fuji broke away, and a trembling hand touched his own lips. "Ryoma."

"You can't keep doing this to me," Ryoma said. Tears of frustration burned against his eyes. He furiously held them back. "I was just getting over it – you – I- I don't need you. Okay?"

"Please, Ryoma-"

"No," Ryoma repeated, gold eyes shaking with turmoil. "No. I'm going."

"I like you," Fuji said quietly.

Those three words finally reached Ryoma's limit – it was the words he had been waiting to hear for ages, the words he had wished would spill out of the prodigy's lips – but there was no way Fuji meant them. Not after everything that had happened. Not after how Fuji had treated him. Not after Fuji had broken him into pieces – and just went Ryoma had been starting to repair, he had torn the healing pieces all over again.

"I'm going," Ryoma turned around, and his feet fled out of the restaurant on their own accord. He could still feel the burn on his lips and Fuji's breath against his ear, but without looking back, he fled – because it was finally his turn to say no, and he wouldn't miss the chance.


	7. Everything's Worth

**LOADED SOUL** **7/10**

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**A/N: **Um. This is the chapter that I _don't _want anyone to read. This chapter literally makes me shudder and cower in embarrassment. I know, if I hate it that much, I should just change it…but the problem is…it's not even the writing. (Well, the writing is bad too…but…) It's the _content. _Ugh. It's the reason why Fuji's been acting the way he has been, and it's honestly the stupidest, most unconvincing reason on earth. But I can't be bothered to change it. So…yeah. Enjo- *frowns* - try to _get through _it. It does get a little better after.

**PS: **For those of you who I usually review (Sy *sheepish*, Ciel D…) I'm sorry about the lateness. School just started and for some reason, they like to dump you with so much harder stuff in grade ten than in grade nine. I totally breezed through Grade nine, and now I'm like dying. So…_yeah. _And I'm too tired to review tonight, but tomorrow's the weekend, so I promise! Promise, promise, promise! Just like Fuji! (hehe, you'll see in the end…if you're still reading this…um…I know it's bad…but…yeah…) Sorry.

* * *

**X**

Ryoma scrubbed at his eyes with his fisted hand. The wind blew his unruly black-green hair in a hazardous mess around the frame of his face. But, at this point, Ryoma assumed he couldn't look anymore disastrous. Tears pricked at his eyelashes. He bravely held them back. He was done with Fuji – done with this horrible thing called love. He didn't need to deal with this. He was only twelve. After this tournament, he would go back to Seigaku, and ignore Fuji for the rest of his life.

He couldn't keep crying over something so hopeless. They just weren't meant to be together – they both equally had their issues, and when combined, both of them created a hurricane, not a relationship.

A drop of rain hit Ryoma's nose. He glanced up at the sky, which had turned gray in a matter of minutes. A sense of ease washed over him. He let the rain fall harder, and more frequent, until he could feel his shirt starting to soak through. The thin material of his shorts made Ryoma shiver. The temperature seemed to have dropped, but he didn't dare move.

He didn't move, not even when the rain fell so hard his entire body trembled, and not when a car whizzed by and splashed him from head to toe. He was still as a statue, barely breathing, until he saw a glimpse of a figure from his peripheral vision.

_He followed me. Fuji Syusuke followed me._

He cared. He still cared. Ryoma cursed silently, but the rain was so strong, and his body was so cold, that it almost didn't seem to matter. Fuji walked silently but steadily towards him, his own honey-brown hair damp and pressed against his forehead. When he reached the boy, Ryoma noticed a warm fondness in his blue eyes that he had previously missed.

"Ryoma?" the prodigy asked.

"No," Ryoma murmured, but his control was already starting to shatter. The situation was so damn stupid. And romantic. And Fuji was smiling at him so sincerely.

"I had reasons," Fuji said, and his voice was crystal clear against the sound of the pounding rain. "They were wrong. I realized that. Please forgive me."

"Reasons?" Ryoma echoed. He shivered harder.

Fuji didn't miss the tremor, and smiled kindly. His arm slipped around Ryoma again, and he gently pushed the boy into a hug. Ryoma didn't want to give in – but the rain was so cold, and Fuji was so warm, and everything suddenly seemed to right. He brought himself closer to the heat. Fuji's wet soaked-through shirt pressed against his cheek. Fuji stroked his hair, and Ryoma closed his eyes, barely catching words that slipped through the prodigy's mouth.

"…those pictures you saw…of that boy? My old boyfriend."

The rain pattered harder. Ryoma's heart squeezed. Fuji had had a boyfriend? He spoke more, but Ryoma suddenly realized how tired he was, and sagged against him, barely listening. He caught words through the patter of rain.

"…I hurt him so badly. I felt like I hurt everyone I loved. He broke up with me because…he was…scared of me…"

Ryoma snuggled forward. His voice was soft. "Ch', you're not scary. Not really."

"I am. In ways, I guess. I was too intense. I drove him off. I feel like I traumatized him."

Silence stretched, wild and beautiful. Fuji pressed Ryoma closer to him, swaying according to the wind, lulling Ryoma's exhausted mind into rest. The boy breathed softly, like a newborn kitten, only aware that he was drenched from head to toe and felt safer than he'd ever felt before. He remembered how much Fuji had hurt him, and tried to recall the pain he had felt before, but this new feeling had empowered him.

"When I realized I liked you, and that…" Fuji paused, hesitantly. His fingers threaded through Ryoma's hair. "And that you liked me too…"

"You knew?" Ryoma muttered. He cursed under his breath. "I knew it."

Fuji laughed lightly. He continued.

"But that's the thing. I didn't want to hurt you and mess everything up like I did with my ex-boyfriend. I was only twelve when I had that relationship, and yet things had been so rocky, so hard. I wanted to keep you as a friend, and to not hurt you…" Fuji grinned slightly at Ryoma's scowl, but his eyes stayed serious. "I thought if I played around a little, acted like I liked other people, you would stop liking me, and then you wouldn't get hurt…"

"It hurt."

"I know. I didn't mean to play with you like that. My intention was to act cold and flirt with other people, like Alec, just so you would give up and stop liking me. But sometimes, my body and heart would take over my senses, and I would start doing things I'd told myself not to do. I kept thinking I was doing the right thing. I was convinced I was doing us both a favour…" Fuji paused, and he shut his eyes painfully. "Until I heard you crying that night in the hotel room. I realized then that I'd hurt you so much already.'

"You did." Ryoma snuggled closer. "It hurt so bad."

"That's when I decided…" Fuji smiled widely. The rain ceased to stop. "that I'd take this chance. I'd already hurt you enough. I couldn't do any more damage, could I?"

"No. You couldn't." Ryoma felt unusually calm. The questions in his mind were cleared. And for some reason, the words Fuji had just spoken, and the hug he was wrapped so tightly in, made him trust Fuji all over again. He wouldn't hurt him. Fuji liked him. Fuji liked him back, and it wasn't just some game. Ryoma gave into the thumping of his heart, and the desire flowing through his veins. "You still haven't said sorry," the boy said quietly.

Fuji opened his mouth, and he started to speak, "I didn't mean to-" he abruptly cut himself off. He laughed quietly. "Bad habit. I'm sorry Ryoma, completely sorry."

Ryoma smiled, and the gold in his eyes brightened against the dullness of the sky. "I forgive you," he said.

Fuji just tightened the hug. Ryoma waited for the kiss to come, the one left incomplete, but Fuji didn't make a move to do it. Ryoma thought about doing it himself, but then, he realized that he didn't really want to kiss right now. The hug was filled with such trembling innocence that he couldn't bear to let go. They clung onto each other; soaked.

It was only a few moments after that, that Fuji tilted his head up, pale cheeks moist. "This reminds me of that tennis match."

Ryoma blinked, and cracked a grin. The rain started to spit, and the clouds parted in the distance.

"Yeah. Yeah, me too."

**X**

When they got into their hotel room, Fuji brought up a swaddle of blankets and two mugs of hot chocolate. Ryoma was curled under the blankets of the bed, still shivering, but he was too happy to care about how cold he felt. He closed his eyes, and felt footsteps move towards him. A cool hand stroked his hair.

"I'm glad you forgave me," Fuji said.

It was all over. It had to be. Ryoma didn't think he could bear it if this was just another part of his game. He let himself relax as Fuji carded through his damp hair, and threw a few extra blankets over him. He realized Fuji must have been just as cold as him, but he couldn't be bothered to care. Fuji deserved some kind of karma.

"I brought some hot chocolate," Fuji said. "Unless you want to go straight to sleep."

Ryoma pushed himself into a sitting position. "I'll drink," he smirked. "It's free, after all."

Fuji rolled his eyes, but smiled ethereally, and handed him the hot chocolate. Ryoma sighed as the warmth filled his fingertips, and took a sip. His tongue instantly relished the taste. From the corner of his eye, he saw Fuji take a swallow of his own mug, and couldn't help but stare. His slender, pale body was covered in a drenched dress shirt, brown hair wet and damp around his face. Ryoma couldn't help but think that Fuji looked his – er, sexiest – when he was soaked from rain. Ryoma shivered at the thought of having a shower with him.

_Great. I'm __really__ becoming a pervert now_, Ryoma thought.

Fuji took out his camera from his suitcase. "Can I take a picture of you?"

"You fixed it?"

"Mmm."

Ryoma frowned. "Why a picture now?"

"No reason, in particular. You just look adorable, all cuddled under the blankets."

_And Fuji says he isn't blunt_, Ryoma thought, and the frown on his face deepened. Sometimes, he didn't get Fuji. Despite that Fuji already had millions of pictures of everyone on the team, he didn't have a single one with himself in it. Maybe it was because he was a photographer, but Ryoma really didn't get it.

"Give me the camera," Ryoma said.

Fuji's eyes flashed. "Why?"

"Just let me see it."

The hesitancy in Fuji's eyes was clear, but after a moment, he swallowed, and handed the camera to Ryoma. Ryoma smirked, and ran his fingers along the frame of the rusty device. He wondered absentmindedly how long Fuji had been using this camera. "Here," he crawled to the end of the bed and put the camera there. He fiddled with the buttons. "I'm going to put it so it automatically takes a picture of the both of us."

"Ryo-chan, I just need a picture of you-"

"Okay," Ryoma clicked the button, and the camera flashed red. He hurriedly scrambled back to the headboard of the bed. He slipped under the blankets, and propped his face up on the pillow. Fuji saw the smile in his gold eyes, even though his mouth was still a pout, and sighed. With a shrug, Fuji slipped in next to him, and slid an arm around his waist.

"Say cheese," Fuji teased.

The camera flashed.

"Fu-_ji_," Ryoma said, and he cracked a full grin. There was laughter in Fuji's face when he took the camera back, and kissed Ryoma's forehead. The boy just smirked, and snuggled back under the covers. A moment later, Fuji changed into his pyjamas and moved in next to him. Outside, they could still hear the rain in the night, and it made Ryoma absentmindedly shiver.

"So, this is it?" Ryoma asked, drowsily. "No more games?"

A warm hug enveloped him from the side. Fuji's nose nuzzled the crook of his neck.

"No more games," he said. His voice was full and honest, and Ryoma knew he wouldn't have to worry anymore. A beat later, Fuji said:

"I promise."


End file.
